Heroes of the Empire
by scorpio7
Summary: Oblivion.... with a twist. Taken from a group perspective during the midst of the on-coming of the Oblivion Gates. Reviews Welcomed; Updated to "T" due to new chapter content
1. Chapter 1

_Inside Fort Farragut:_

One target remained in her path. She had been successful as the Dark Guardian had not detected her presence as it lumbered aimlessly through the hall. She prepared the spell and cast her hand outward as a burst of flame exploded from her fingertips and struck the Dark Guardian with force causing undead skeletal remains to separate from each other, scattering in all directions. A mild grin danced upon her lips, amused at the site and pleased with herself.

She skulked down the corridor and approached the worn, iron gate as the sound of low voice danced on the air. "… make haste and return to me when you have completed your task." She peered down the way, watching the dark armor clad individual turn quickly from their cloaked counterpart and darted up an escape ladder. She pulled back the switch and the gate creaked and whined as it rose. Slipping quickly under the gap, she softly walked into the room. Despite making no footfalls, the cloaked form's eyes darted directly at her with a firm tone.

"Good evening, Father." She quietly announced.

"Syndel…" he curtly replied as he turned and headed towards the table behind him. Leaning on the edge, he skimmed over an aged text that was opened before him as a grim look was readily etched on his face.

She approached within a respectful distance of him as she pulled back her hood. The light accented her Imperial heritage as she shook her head slightly allowing her long black hair to fall past her shoulders while silence fell between them. "You look concerned, Father. What troubles you?"

"This night…" he replied without looking up from the text, "Is a hallowed night, my daughter. Several of our brothers and sisters will be joining our dread father by dawn's light. The Rite of Purification is being enacted."

Syndel hung her head slightly, "Night Mother… be merciful." She mumbled under her breath.

Lucien looked up and walked up to her as he placed his hands on her shoulders in encouragement. "The taint MUST be purged from that place. It is by the will of Sithis that this deed must be done. The Night Mother shall grant peaceful paradise to those who she deems faithful and innocent of the crimes that have befallen us and Sithis will swiftly punish those who have betrayed our 'family'. Your faith in the Night Mother must be strong."

"I know , Father. The Night Mother is wise and cares for her faithful children."

"Good. These are dark times for all of Cyrodiil and the darkness has even befallen the Dark Brotherhood. By Sithis, we shall prevail!" Lucien kissed her on the forehead and looked deeply into her blue eyes. He smiled as she mirrored his expression. "Think no more on this. The Dark Brotherhood will need your skills and talents in the times ahead. "

"Yes, Father."

Lucien took a half step back as his expression shifted into a more stoic demeanor. "Enough practice for today. I have a new contract for you."

Syndel took in a calming breath and regained her cold composure, "How may I serve, Sithis?"

"There is a rogue mercenary known as Mogens Wind-Shifter. He is camped with several members of his band northeast of Leyawiin. Rid Cyrodill of his existence in any manner you see fit and return here when the task is complete."

"By Sithis, it shall be done."

"Good... Go now… rest yourself."

"Yes, Father."

XxXxXxX

_Weeba-Na's house: Leyawiin _

It had taken six picks, but the tumblers on the lock finally gave as he caught a glimpse of torchlight coming around the nearby corner telling him the roving guards was nearing his locaton. The High Elf casually turned the knob and methodically opened the door as not to create too much noise. He crept effortlessly into the small home keeping the door cracked in case a hasty exit was needed.

His heart began to beat more heavily as footsteps sounded off just ahead of him. He looked to his left and saw no one immediately there as he switched back to his right and saw the guard's torch passing by the house. Taking a quick breath, he pressed his back to the wall and slinked, bit by bit, he could tell by the footsteps that one of them was pacing nervously. Suddenly, they stopped moving and froze in place.

"So, what if the Trolls eat it?" the female Argonian questioned concerned.

"You need not worry. Trolls don't like water. That is why it is secure in Tidewater Cave." The male Argonian replied assuredly. The High Elf snorted in amusement of the ease at which this was going. The two Argonians perked up. "Shh… someone's there." The female called out. With that the High Elf darted out the door.

He turned quickly and headed for the east gate. The sentry guard smiled as the high Elf approached. "Good Evening, sir."

"Ah, good evening, my good man. Perhaps you might help me with some directions." the High Elf grinned.

"We're here to help." the grizzled Breton replied.

"Yes, well. Could you perhaps tell me where I might find a place called 'Tidewater Cave'?"

The guard stroked his chin in deep reflection. "Tidewater Cave, huh… If I'm not mistaken, it's just southeast of here. Not too far off the coastline."

"Thank you, my good man." The High Elf tossed a coin toward him as the guard nodded in appreciation opened the heavy oak doors.

"By the way, what is your name , sir?"

He took out a bottle and took a quick swig of the Fortify Speed Potion, "Mycroft" he smiled as he bolted past the gate.

"Mycroft… Mycroft… Hey, wait! Halt!..."

XxXxXxX

_Outside Fort Blueblood_

The cool, moist night air kissed away the sweat upon the Dark Elf as she exited the ruined fort, clinching the stinging wound at her side. Kalthar had managed to land a solid strike from his blade before she finished him off with her Bloody Icicle spell she had acquired. She suspected his knife was laced with some sort of poison as her magicka was not returning to her as quickly as she had come accustomed to.

She examined the Amulet in her hand curiously. The silver chain and blue tinted gem embedded within, sparkled brilliantly despite the absence of light outside. There was no doubt that this was a powerful artifact. She pondered on it power, but knew all too well that it was specifically crafted for members of Dagail's family.

As she rested against the inner wall, she heard the distant sound of snarls and yelps cry out from the woods beyond. Using her staff as a improvised walking stick, she walked out to the opening and saw a trio of Trolls hurriedly stampeding their way through the trees agitated and without direction.

_What has them so riled up?_ She thought to herself.

She watched the near rabid trolls raced about the area as if trying to find a lost scent as she felt the magicka slowly return to her body. She stepped back into the confines of the fort, as not to draw attention and felt recharged enough to cast a healing spell on her wound.

She was in no mood or shape to fight such powerful creatures. This mystery could wait till tomorrow. For now, she had to return to the Chapter House and deliver the stolen item. She waited a short while longer till she at full strength with her magic. She cast a Night Eye Spell, followed by a Chamelon Spell leaving enough in reserve for an offensive spell, if needed. She took in a deep breath and ran out the opening as fast as she could. The three troll perked up, attentively but could not make out the source of the noise as she escaped the threat area.

XxXxXxX

_West of Water's Edge_

The aged Nord adjusted the shovel resting on his shoulder as he walked up the hill through the tree line. It had been a long walk from the Imperial City, but given the severity of the burden placed upon him and late Emperor's insight as to what lay before him and the fate of all of Cyrodiil. He, and many others like him fought to make the Empire what it had become, he was not about to let all that they had fought and died for go unchallenged. He had sought for so long to put those dark days of war and fighting behind him, but he knew that he had no choice but to take up the fight for the good of the Empire once more.

He came to a soft patch of earth, nestled between a crop of trees and boulders. It was well off the beaten path, quiet, and undisturbed. He dug deep, as if exhuming the grave of a long rested soul. After a short while he stuck the aged wood of a chest. He cleared away the dirt, pulled the key from around his neck, and opened the large strongbox. The Nord reached inside unwrapped the cloth swaddled around an Ebony War Hammer which laid a top a matching set of Ebony Full Plate.

He raised the Hammer to the light as a mystical white and golden aura shimmered off the surface. "It is good to see you again as well, my old friend." He mumbled under his breath in mock conversation. He stepped back slightly and gave the weapon a few workout swings to get reacquainted with its weight. His attacks were bit slower and bit more strained than he remembered knowing full well he was out of practice, hoping that age had not robbed him too much of his prowess. However, he knew, in the days ahead there would be more than enough opportunities for him to get back on par.

Donning his armor, he readied himself and headed for Leyawiin, hoping the gods would have mercy upon him and would restore what had been lost.


	2. Chapter 2

XxXxXxX

_Fisherman's Rock_

Through the darkness, the camp was brilliantly lit by the bonfire in the center of the camp. The young Nightblade quietly crept upon the circled tents surrounding the camp fire. Wind-shifter was standing in the middle of the camp as he and two of his fellow mercenaries gathered as pair of armor clad warriors approached the camp; One, a female Orc and the other an aged Nord male. It was apparent these individuals were not part of the war band. With her prime opportunity gone, she readied her bow, hoping to use the distraction to her advantage.

XxXxXxX

"There he is, Joren!" Mazoga seethed, looking to her Nord companion as they approached the encampment. "Remember, he is mine."

"Do what you must…" Joren shrugged as he donned his helm. "It appears he is not alone. I will run interference keep them off you."

Mazoga nodded as Joren watched her confront Wind-shifter with assertive authority, rage burning behind her eyes. Wind-shifter fellow mercs, a Male Khajitt and a female Redguard, had begun to flank them as they approached. Mazoga briefly exchanged words; weapons were drawn, and as the fight between them ensued. Joren quickly drew his hammer as the Khajitt charged at him with an Elven War Axe.

Joren beat away the attack as he delivered a round house blow in riposte knocking the Khajitt off his feet and was launch back several steps. The Redguard was luckier in her attack as she landed a solid blow with her Elven Longsword to Joren's side as his armor clanged from the blow. Joren scoffed as he shifted his focus to his new opponent.

As the Redguard reached back to take another stroke at Joren, he quickly landed a pair of blows to the Redguard's chest as she quickly crumpled to the ground. The Khajitt had managed to regain his footing and charged at Joren, swinging his axe wildly. The wild strikes his across Joren's breastplate, as it slowly whittled away its integrity. The Khajitt broke from his the quick attacks and lunged for a strong attack as Joren quickly sidestepped the attack planting his hammer at the Khajitt side as the Khajitt face planted on the ground.

Joren turned to check on Mazoga's status as she and Wind-shifter continued to exchange blows. He watched as Wind-shifter pushed the attack as Mazoga was slightly outmatched. Mazoga's snarled as her rage began to consume and began to blindly attack Wind-shifter in her berserk state. The faint twang of bowstring rang in Joren's ears as his eyes darted around the scene to find the source. It was then he noticed Wind-shifter's body contort, his blade slipping from his grasp. Mazoga stuck at Wind-shifter ferociously as his body spiraled onto his back as he hit the earth.

Mazoga steadied herself as she attempted to regain her breath and senses as Joren walked up alongside her. "You alright?" Joren questioned with a reserved firmness.

"He's dead… Mogen Wind-shifter is dead. I have fulfilled my oath." Mazoga replied between modestly.

"Yes… you have seen your quest through. However, this area is not safe and you are injured. Go back to the city and get your wounds attended to. I will take care of the bodies."

XxXxXxX

Syndel had managed to land the killing blow from her arrow strike. She watched in silence as the female Orc nodded to her companion and turned back to the south, leaving the camp with her head held high. The Nord slung his hammer over his back as knelt down alongside the body of Wind-shifter. Syndel eyed the Nord carefully as he turned the body on its side and examined the half broken shaft of the arrow which had pierced his heart from behind. The Nord scanned the rise before him as if analyzing the trajectory.

"Impressive!" the Nord cried out flatly in her direction. Syndel shifted her position ever so slowly closer to the tree. The body fell loosely as the Nord rose to his feet dusted off his hands. "I have no quarrel with you. "the Nord called out as he removed his helm and tucked it under his arm. "So can at least show yourself." Syndel held tight to her cover in the shadows. "Look, I do not have time for this!" The Nord fumed as he scanned the edge on the rise. "Alright, have it your way. I am going to go tell the would-be knight her revenge was robbed from her, as she did not kill this man and she will most likely hunt you to the end of her days."

With that, the Nord turned and began heading south as Syndel notched another arrow and let it fly, striking the Nord in the rear of the left shoulder. The Nord flinched slightly as he groaned heavily attempting to take in the pain as Syndel swiftly slinked down the rise, another arrow at the ready.

XxXxXxX

Joren turned slightly and looked behind him as a dark silhouette emerged from the shadows, bow at the ready, hovering over Wind-shifter's body. "I thought you were still there." Joren sized the slim figure, donning a rather intricate back leather armor and hood. "A woman, no less." Joren replied intrigued. "I stand impressed. So, do you intend to kill me as well?"

"This soul," the rather melodiously cold feminine voice softly called out, "belongs to Sithis. Not unto that Orc. Should you intend to interfere, you will join him."

Joren turned to face the assassin, stroking his chin, as he tightened her draw on her bow. "I see. Well, that definitely puts us in a serious dilemma. I have to do something about these bodies and you, obviously, are not about to let me be a loose end. Which means you will no doubt be following me or simply shoot me in the back." Joren sighed and slowly threw his hands into the air. "It is your call, milady."

Joren turned away from the shadowy figure and began to remove the armor from the dead Khajiit mercenary. Once stripped, he picked up the dead fighter and tossed it into the large bonfire. He turned around once more to find the Wind-shifter's body as since been stripped as well and the killer gone.

"As you wish, milady." He quietly called out.


	3. Chapter 3

_Outside Tidewater Cave_

Mycroft watched as two burly trolls meandered about in front of the cave entrance. It appeared that getting in would be a bit trickier than he had initially anticipated. It seemed as if everywhere he turned, there was a troll nearby. Unlike the previous ones that he managed to avoid, these two seemed a bit tougher than the rest. He watched patiently, hoping for an opportunity would present itself in order to sneak past them.

Suddenly, one of the Trolls raised his snout to the wind, sniffing the air feverishly, yelped, and broke away from the cave as if on the hunt, as the other followed suit. Not one to be wasting an open opportunity, he made his break for the cave entrance.

XxXxXxX

She cautiously descended the downward slope of the small hill as the moonlight glimmered off the distant coastline. The thundering sound paws broke the serene scene before her as a pair of rampaging trolls raced towards her direction. She watched as the one of the powerful trolls was making a bull charge directly at her, snarling fiercely, being closely followed by another. She quickly readied her staff and aimed it towards the lead troll as a funnel of lightning shot out from the twisted end of the wooden rod and stuck the lead stampeding troll square in the chest, knocking him off his feet.

Before she could ready her second blast, the second troll had gained more ground as it raised its massive forearms, it hands clasped, and came down with an axe handle blow from above. The blow was overpowering as she became dazed, nearly knocked to the ground.

XxXxXxX

Mycroft looked at the weathered wooden door with a mild grin as he crouched down and cautiously pushed the door open ever so slightly. A shrilling cry rang out nearby as the voice was distinctly feminine in nature. His glance danced between the door and the cry for help till his conscience got the better of him, knowing he was a sucker for a damsel in distress. He raced in the direction where the sentry trolls had darted off to as one of them was rising to its feet dazed.

Drawing his short sword, he leaped into the air and gave a raking slash across the back of the troll, who was caught completely unaware. The troll doubled over as its body limply began to slide down the decent. He heard the audible crack of an electrical charge sound off as he caught glimpse of the second troll engaged with a cloaked individual dressed in a green and black trimmed, hooded mage's robe.

The troll backhanded the mage harshly from the blast as the female mage was knocked off her feet. Mycroft sprinted to her aid as he intercepted the troll punch, nailing him squarely in the ribs as his Mythril shirt was able to absorb most of the blow. Mycroft winced slightly as he turned to face the troll. Delivering a series of quick slashes, he was able to beat back the brute away from the downed mage. The troll dashed backed in retreat then charged Mycroft with a heavy kick that connected in the middle of his stomach, practically knocking most the wind out of him.

XxXxXxX

She shook of the daze as she noticed the mysterious stranger had apparently intervened and was defending her vigorously. She quickly rose to her feet and aimed her staff at the troll. "DUCK!!! NOW!!!" she yelled out behind him as he quickly dropped prone. She channeled her will into the staff as a snap of lightning cackled over the stranger's head as the troll took the blast, nearly point blank and was blasted back several feet as it fell dead before them.

She hastened to catch her breath as the stranger, a male High Elf, with long blond hair that was tied back, was apparently doing the same as she propped up to a sitting position. "Are you… alright… milady?" he inquired under the duress of catching his breath, looking over his shoulder.

XxXxXxX

Mycroft watched followed the mage as she came around on his right and knelt down before him. She pulled back her hood to reveal a rather youthful and exquisitely stunning Dark Elf with a near ebony complexion, offset by long, snow white hair. He was taken aback by her exotic features and was all but dumbfounded.

"Yes. Thank you, for saving me. I am in your debt." She softly replied as she held out her hand and pressed it against his armor to heal his injuries.

"Well… I, uh, I mean… that is… um, you are most certainly welcome, milady. Tell me, what is your name? And what is a lovely creature, such as yourself, doing out here, alone, wandering about in the wild?"

She smiled modestly and coy, "My name is Nathiira, an acolyte of the Mage's Guild. I was curious as to why there was such a large, concentrated gathering of trolls in the area."

"I see, well, permit me to introduce myself. I am Mycroft, gentleman adventurer and treasure hunter extraordinaire." He commented as he rose to his feet, flashed a winning smile, and extended a courteous bow.

Nathiira stood and nodded, "I am pleased to meet, Mycroft."

"So, any thoughts on this troll herd running amuck?"

Nathiira looked about inquisitively. "As far as I can tell, it is past their mating season, which rules out a natural occurrence. The only other explanation is that trolls, usually, only converge like this if there is a strong magical resonance nearby."

"Ah, milady is not only beautiful but wise as well." Mycroft grinned, trying to hide the truth he already knew as she shyly shrugged. Mycroft absent mindedly dusted himself off as he continued. "You see, I have been charged to seek out a lost item."

"What sort of item?" she asked intrigued.

"It is a gem, a magical gem, of sorts. Apparently, the kind that would make trolls flock to it. Seeing how these beasts are a bit tougher than your average troll, what would you say in helping me out with this little errand and I will consider the debt, as you called it, fulfilled."

Nathiira nodded, "Agreed."

"Excellent! Now, on to the matter at hand, there was cave near here I saw these little buggers hovering around. I tend to think that is where it may be hiding. Shall we?" Mycroft gestured in the direction of the cave as Nathiira bowed her head and turned as the two made their way to the cave entrance.


	4. Chapter 4

_Outside Wawnet Inn:_

Syndel watched as dawn was breaking the horizon in the east. The warm glow began to creep up onto the polished stone of the Imperial city walls lighting the area with a bronze aura. She pressed herself against the north wall of the Inn and slinked up to the half deteriorated rain barrel. As expected, her compensation and follow-up orders were nestled at the bottom. She collected her prize and instructions as she made haste to the foot of the main bridge. Under the arch she pocketed the gold and examined the note.

_These are troubled times, my daughter._

_Our "family" has been violated. There is one amongst us that is a killer amongst killers. Accusations are being cast, doubt lingers, and fear… is blinding many. Fort Farragut is no longer safe. Do not return there and make no attempts to contact me, for the others will no doubt use you to get to me. _

_Fear not, my child. I will make contact with you when the traitor is exposed, but for now it is best that you hide in plain sight until this matter is dealt with. Go to the Odill farm house. I have secured a few items just outside eastern fence line that will help keep you safe. Go now, my child, and may the Night Mother keep you safe in her cold, loving embrace._

_Your Father,_

_Lucien Lachance_

Syndel sighed heavily as she cast a flame touch spell and watched the note engulf in flame. She pondered on the words and fought the urge to seek out her father to aid him in his search. However, she had never failed to follow an order and placed her trust in his wisdom. She quietly mumbled a quick prayer to the Night Mother to keep him safe as rose to her feet and made way for Chorrol.

XxXxXxX

_Nibenay Valley Road; West of the Nocturnal Shrine_

The road was peaceful as the birds chirped in harmony in greeting the dawn. A cool breeze was flowing off of the Lower Niben and caressed his face as Joren removed his helm. He paused for a moment and took in a deep breath as his muscles eased slightly. He knew these calm little moments would be brief as the matter placed before him would no doubt leave few breaks once he arrived at the Priory. The moment was fleeting as he heard the sound of steel clear a scabbard.

XxXxXxX

"Surely, you must be mistaken, good sir." Mycroft prompted nervously as the Leyawiin guard drew his sword.

"You are the one. There is no doubt in my mind." The guard snarled as he looked to Nathiira. "Tell me, ma'am. Is his name Mycroft or not." Nathiira looked at Mycroft with a saddened expression as the look of guilt wavered on his face. The guard eyed the two them intently looking as Nathiira closed her eyes and nodded to the guard. "Ha! I knew it! It's scum like you that always try to weasel their way out of their crimes. You have two choices; you can pay your fines or serve out your sentence in the Leyawiin Jail."

Mycroft shrugged, "Well, you see… That is a bit of a problem. I am a bit short on gold at the moment."

"Ha! Typical…"

Mycroft looked to Nathiira, "Milady, would you be so kind to, perhaps, help me out here?"

Nathiira looked to Mycroft with a sorrowful face. "I am sorry, Mycroft, I cannot."

The guard turned and looked down the road as the light clang of heavy armor, coming from a dark armor clad Nord, closed in on his position. "What seems to be the trouble here?" the new arrival posed firmly.

"Move along, citizen, nothing worth troubling yourself over. A simple apprehension of a wanted thief is all." The guard replied as he eyed the High Elf intently.

"THIEF!!!" Mycroft exclaimed, "Thief is such a vulgar term. I will have you know-"

"QUIET!!!" the guard snapped.

"Hmmm… and what is he being charged with?" Joren pried as he stroked his chin with his gauntlets.

"This meddlesome thief is charged with trespassing, theft, evading the law, amongst other things."

"What is his fine?" Joren asked bluntly as Mycroft looked at him oddly.

"About one thousand gold."

"One Thousand!" Mycroft replied in shock, "Look if you let me return to my house I will-"

"I said… BE QUIET! You had your chance. Now you will serve out your time accordingly." the guard retorted.

Nathiira stepped in front of Mycroft, using herself as a buffer, "Mycroft, you are not going to win this argument, nor are you going to be able to talk your way out of this."

Joren glared at Nathiira and Mycroft in deep contemplation. "You, watchman…" Joren called out with a bit of authority to his voice, "If I were to offer up half of his fine now and escort him to his home to collect my front and the rest of his payment. Would this be permitted?"

The guard gawked at Joren in bewilderment as his eyes darted between all the subjects before him. "Well, I guess… I mean, no one has ever posed that before." The guard sized up the Nord and compared him to Mycroft, "However, you look as if you could handle him he were to skip out. So, I find it agreeable."

"Good." Joren replied curtly as he handed over a small pouch full of gold. "There is the first half. I will return with the second half as soon as possible."

"Very well." The guard replied as he sheathed his sword. "He's all yours…"

The guard turned and proceed south down the road as Mycroft placed his hand on Joren's shoulder guard. "Ha-ha! Thank you, my good man. I will not forget this." Joren eyed Mycroft hand and gazed into his eyes with firm reserve as Mycroft slowly drew back his hand hesitantly. "Oh, you were serious about all that."

"Yes… I was."

"Good, sir." Nathiira interjected as she tried to cool the situation. "What is your name?"

"Joren…"

"Joren… Mycroft… you more or less know. I am Nathiira. Is there perhaps some way he could merely payback the amount, like an indebted servitude?"

"Wait! Since when did you become my boss?" Mycroft exclaimed as he looked to her in shock.

Nathiira glared at Mycroft, her hands firmly planted on her hips, "Since YOU failed to mention you were a wanted criminal. If it were found out I aided a criminal, I could be dismissed from the Mage's Guild."

"Okay, point taken, but still…"

"Actually, that was my intent." Joren added flatly.

"WHAT!?!" Mycroft cried out and Nathiira stepped back confused.

"I have a task set before me. I know it will not be a simple one and one I cannot accomplish alone. I believe, in the future, your skills may be needed. That, and since the lady here is looking to make amends for her error, having a mage along would be an asset as well."

"So, you had this planned all along?" Nathiira probed intrigued.

"More or less." Joren shrugged, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Clever… truly clever, Joren. Well, I am apparently at your service. Where does that leave us, now?"

"You work off your debt or earn enough to pay your fines, either way you stick with me. Since, Miss Nathiira here is honor bound to see this through, I assume she will oversee your progress."

"I shall." Nathiira nodded.

"So, what is this task you… I mean, 'we' have to do, exactly?"

"First, we head to Weynon Priory. I will explain more once we get there."


	5. Chapter 5

_Odill Farm_

Syndel heard the mumbling cackles of a pair of goblins as she approached the farm from the east. The two creatures were casually gathering vegetables from the abandoned farmer's garden, unaware to the threat approaching them as she stalked methodically, like a looming fog. Acquiring a tight bead on the closer of the two goblins, she took in a slow, easing breath, drew back the bow string, and exhaled softly as she released the arrow.

The deadly missile sailed effortlessly through the air and it found it mark without fail, ripping through the neck of the unsuspecting goblin as it let out gurgling yelp and collapsed into the soft dirt while a pool of blood formed beneath it. The second goblin perked up in alarm as it instinctively followed the arrow's track and made beeline in Syndel's direction.

Syndel was quicker on the draw as she readied another shot and followed the goblin's line through its awkward saunter. She let fly the arrow as it raced directly in the goblin's path intercepting its target as it penetrated deep into its rib cage. The goblin barely flinched as it sped up its pace. Seeing that the creature was unfazed, she realized she was facing a berserker while channeling her magicka.

The goblin snarled wildly as it raised its mace high, ready to strike. Syndel swiftly threw out her hand, casting a Flaming Burst, which struck the goblin point blank in the chest causing to fly backwards. She came out of her stalking crouch and swooped down upon the cindering goblin, as it made a futile attempt to get up. She planted her foot steadfastly in its chest as she drew back another arrow. "Pathetic." Syndel scoffed coldly as the kill shot borrowed itself deeply into the goblin's skull.

She looked about the immediate area for any stragglers that may have been lurking nearby, to which there was none readily present. She continued her way to the fence line, eyeing a small crate resting near an undersized bush. She pried back the lid and examined the note lying on top of a bow, several jeweled trinkets, and a set of scales.

_Syndel,_

_As the Night Mother blesses all her children, she extends rather, unique gifts unto her favored ones. Typically, these items are extended as rewards for loyal service in the name of our unholy matron, the Night Mother and our dark lord, Sithis. As a Child of Sithis, I give you these gifts you so may faithfully carry on the will of Sithis and as a symbol of my love for you as a proud father. The names and there purposes are thus… _

_Shadow Hunt: An enchanted bow that will bring swift end unto you enemies and those marked for death._

_Ring of the Chameleon: The ring will conceal you within shadows._

_Scales of Pitiless Justice: A rather exceptional symbol of the night mother's blessing that will enhance you natural abilities. Keep close upon you person._

_Cruelty's Heart: A powerful amulet that will increase you physical might and focus of the arcane arts._

_Take care, my child, and may you walk always in the shadow of Sithis…_

_Lucien Lachance_

Fascinated by what wonders these items provided, she donned the amulet around her neck to which she quickly feel a charging rush of energy surge through her mind as her magicka seem to return to her faster than usual. Her body began to shift and twist slightly as she felt each muscle of her body tighten and coil like taught rope and ease down as she felt stronger and lither than ever. As she tucked the scales into her belt, she again felt the rush course through her, though not as potent, as it coursed through her body like shiver from a chilling wind. It took several moments for her mind and body to physically adjust to the alterations as she too had to become mentally accustomed to her new body.

She gathered and secured the other items quickly as she saw the wavering glint of a torch dance along the road, just beyond the front of the farm. She lurked about the back side of the farmhouse in order to gain a better vantage point. As she peered around the corner, she observed the Ebony Armored figured she had saw before followed by a pair of elves. The male, High Elf was dressed in Mithril armor, greaves, and boots with a rather agile candor to his step, though apparently he was holding back. The Dark Elf female was attired as a typical, low rank, Mage's guild member. The Nord she knew as Joren, was walking as if relaxed, although she knew behind the casual bravado he was putting up, he was being ever vigilant and holding true to his word in his intended destination. It appeared that the Night Mother favored her, though she knew not why THIS was to be her fated path.

XxXxXxX

The three travelers had journeyed all through the day and most of the night to reach their destination. Joren eyed the shadows of the unoccupied farm as he smelled the ever faint stench of burnt hair and flesh present on the breeze. His wits gnawed at him over the smell of recent death as he pressed onward.

"Tell me, Joren, is there a reason why we could not have taken horses for this journey?" Mycroft grumbled wearily.

"You talk too much…" Joren snapped firmly.

Nathiira looked Mycroft with an amused, sarcastic grin, "And how exactly would plan to pay for them, might I ask?"

Mycroft turned with a mildly shocked expression, "That is not the point here. All I am saying is that it would have shaved time of this, oh-so-merry, little jaunt we are having here."

"It is called trail breaking." Joren replied, "Horses are luxury that may not always be an available option to us. Travelling by foot builds one's stamina. " Joren pointed to a dim and distant light in a window ahead of them. "If you were more observant, there is the Priory, just ahead."

"Thank the Nines… It is about time!" Mycroft exclaimed, relieved that they could finally catch some rest.

The trio turned off the main road and walked up through the courtyard of the Priory. As they approached the stone partition in front of the main house, Joren turned and removed his helm, looking to his companions. "Wait here. This will only take a moment."

"Hold up!" Mycroft prompted as he planted his hands on his hips adamantly, "I waited patiently this whole way to find out what all you had in store for me. Obviously, whatever business you have inside, I need to know about as well."

Joren glared at Mycroft with hardened eyes as Nathiira stepped up alongside Joren placing her hand on his breastplate as if holding him back, while she look at Mycroft. "Joren has his reasons; it not our place to question it. You will just have to wait a bit longer is all." Nathiira sighed as she turned to Joren, "Could you perhaps as the Brothers if we could at least rest here for the evening?"

Joren nodded, "I intended to."

Mycroft threw his arms up in mild disgust, "FINE! Do what you came here to do. All secretive and such…" he fumed as he turned walked towards the breezeway.

Joren snorted as Nathiira chuckled to herself softly, "Ignore him, Joren, he apparently has issues with being told what to do."

"I am not surprised."

XxXxXxX

From the side of small stable to the side of the Priory, Syndel hastily checked herself over as she straightened her quilted doublet, tightened the laces of her leather pants, and adjusted the straps of her gold trimmed shoes. She twisted, tied, and pulled her hair through a mock braid, giving it a fountain-like affect off the back of her head, adding a finishing touch to give her a normal appearing guise.

She glanced around the corner of the stable to see the High Elf coming up the crossroad brooding over some matter. As he rounded the edge of the archway, continuing around the back of the building, she casually stepped out from behind the stable and proceeded to the Priory proper.

XxXxXxX

Nathiira sat crossed-legged on the rim of the large stone planter as she passed the time by noting the events in her journal. She looked up from her book, as she pondered on final thought, taking notice of the young girl of about eighteen years of age, lingering in front of the Priory, idly pacing about the length of the stone partition. Nathiira set her book down along the rim as she stood up and walked towards the newcomer. She became curious as the young girl's eyes snapped an attentive glance to her movements.

"Hello, is there someone or something that you need?" Nathiira questioned curiously as she approached the girl with concern.

"I am looking for the one known as, Joren." The young girl dully answered.

"I see. He is inside, attending to private business at the moment. For now, I am waiting for him as well. If you like, you can wait over there with me." The young girl nodded as they returned to stone rim. Nathiira eyed the girl with morbid curiosity, noticing the rather ornate bow slug across her back as the girl sat perfectly still along the edge, her focus drawn toward the main door of the Priory.

"Are you a hunter?" Nathiira probed casually, attempting breaking the ice.

The girl's eyes leered at Nathiira as if apprehensive about the question, "Yes."

Nathiira felt the bland distantness of her words, seeing that she was evidently not in the mood for conversation and was suddenly startled as the girl abruptly sprung to her feet as she watched Mycroft hurriedly make his way towards them.

XxXxXxX

Mycroft slightly skidded to a halt as he saw the new face, sitting with Nathiira, take a rather defensive posture as he approached them. Mycroft smiled mischievously as he looked to both of the lovely ladies before him. "Whoa-Ho, fair maiden, I mean you no ill-will. I come in peace. Nathiira, just who is your new and pretty friend here?"

Syndel eased down slightly as she took back her place beside Nathiira. "She is waiting for Joren."

"Joren?" Mycroft raised a curious eyebrow, "What do you want with that old man?"

"Mycroft!?! You need not be rude!" Nathiira retorted mildly appalled as Mycroft shrugged in jest.

"Well?" Mycroft continued.

Syndel glared at Mycroft with reservation. "That is none of your concern…" she replied with coldness to her tone.

"As you wish, well, could you at least tell me you name, milady."

"That, ALSO, is none of your concern…" Mycroft raised his hands in a slight defensive posture as Nathiira shied slightly aside and away her.

The door to the Priory creaked open as light spilled out onto the courtyard. Joren stepped out and looked upon the scene before him. Syndel again snapped to her feet as Joren strode over to them. Syndel and Joren locked eyes with a fixed stare, as each sized the other up. Syndel's ice cold hardness behind her violet, nearly sanguine, colored eyes answered all Joren wish to know.

"I see you decided to explore the first option." Joren commented inquiringly.

Syndel looked up at him with quiet resolve, "Until I am satisfied of the worth of your word, I will see to it that you do not go against it or I shall be forced to fulfill the latter option."

Joren chuckled and shrugged, "Good enough for me. So, do you have a name or should I just refer to you as-"

Syndel abruptly waved her hand and cut him off, "My name is Syndel… that is what I will answer to."she responded flatly.

Joren nodded as he looked to his other two companions who shared a look of bewilderment, Mycroft more than Nathiira. "Nathiira… Mycroft… It appears Syndel here is going joining us. Brother Jaufree agreed to allow us to rest here. Go Inside and get some rest." Joren addressed very blunt and matter of fact as he spun on his heel and headed back into the Priory followed sharply by Syndel.

Mycroft leaned in close Nathiira, "I am not entirely certain, but I certain I just missed something there, perhaps several things." He stated with his jaw agape

Nathiira shrugged as got to her feet and straightened her robes, "Perhaps, perhaps not, either way, I feel the fair Syndel summed it up rather pointedly." She replied rather melancholic.

"Oh? Do tell."

"As she said, it is not our concern." Mycroft rolled his eyes and groaned as he and Nathiira made their way inside.


	6. Chapter 6

_Weynon Priory: Main Room_

Morning had come quicker than expected as the Brothers had begun their morning chores and affairs. Joren and Nathiira sat at the table quietly, eating a light breakfast as Syndel stood by the front doorway, absentmindedly strumming the chain of her amulet, armed and ready to move out. A moaning yawn echoed down the stairwell as Mycroft descended down from the boarding room and joined them.

"You know…" Mycroft greeted them as he lethargically stretched his limbs out in his seat, "Though simple in their ways and lifestyle, these clerics certain do have some comfortable beds."

Nathiira lightly scoffed in jest, "Yes, you certainly took full advantage of them."

Mycroft's eyes widen in mock insult at the dig, "Well, Joren did say to get rested. After all, I am certain we are about to find out how will be crossing the rest of Cyrodiil today, eh Joren?"

Joren smirked, "Not quite."

"Well, thank the Nines for small favors…" Mycroft retorted. "So, NOW are going to enlighten us as to what your little scheme is?"

"Very well, we are bound for Kvatch. There is a cleric by the name of Martin. We need to find him safely escort him here to the Priory."

"Is that all?" Mycroft questioned rather dejected. "You need ALL of us to simply to usher a priest? What, you feel you are not as spry in your old age and cannot handle the matter yourself?" Mycroft sarcastically jabbed.

"There is no need to be rude, Mycroft!" Nathiira sternly interjected.

Joren smirked as he raised a hand slightly, politely cutting her off, "It is alright, milady. You seem disappointed, Mycroft. You, of all people should see that you are getting off easy in seeing to this task to pay off your debt."

"Oh, Right! Knowing you, it is not going to be as EASY as you make it out to be. I may play the fool, but I am far from actually being one."

"No one here is saying otherwise."

"At least we have straightened that out."

"Joren…" Nathiira cut in modestly, "I must ask, despite Mycroft opinions, I am of the same mind with him in that you appear to be a competent fighter who could easily handle the matter yourself. Why do you feel you need our assistance for such a trivial ordeal?"

Joren nodded, "You are kind, milady, and your insight is truly keen. I do not know how to explain it other than to say that, in a broader aspect, I have a nagging, gut feeling that something is amiss."

"I see. So, that what you meant by this possibly being more that you can handle by yourself."

"More or less."

"Ok, so we go to Kvatch, we collect this priest, bring him back here, and we are settled up then, correct?" Mycroft surmised.

Joren chuckled heartily as he stood up and rolled out a map on the table, "Nice try."

"Figures… Are we to take the main road there? After all, we cleared out the bandits back the way we came in."

"True, however there are a lot of Dreaux along this stretch of road to the southwest towards Kvatch. Should take, I assume, two days or slightly over depending how much interference we ran across."

"Oh, lovely…" Mycroft commented gloomily.

"It can be less." Syndel solemnly added as the Joren, Mycroft, and Nathiira looked over towards her, mildly shocked by her sudden lack of distancing herself from the conversation.

"How so?" Joren inquired seeing how willing she would commit to the endeavor.

Syndel strolled around the table as she scanned the map before them, tracing a path with her finger. "Here is the Priory. Follow the decline of these foothills, headed south. The ground will eventually flatten to an even terrain that forms a valley which continues west-southwest. It will lead towards the northeast face of the plateau Kvatch rests upon." She instructed in a very even tone as the others scanned the map.

"How dangerous is the overall area?" Nathiira probed guardedly.

"Minimal Threats."

"How minimal?" Joren pressed.

"Predatory animals; Black Bears, Wolves, and Mountain Lions."

"Excellent, it seems this may be simple after all." Mycroft cheerily added.

Joren scanned Syndel's blank expression as she was focused on the map. "Will you lead us through and avoid any obstacles or, at least, keep the path clear?"

Syndel glanced at Joren oddly as her eyes narrowed. She scanned the room and walked over to a nearby table, collecting a group of quills. "Follow these as markers. If they are blooded, be aware of threats."

Joren nodded, "See to it, then." He replied as Syndel exited the room before he looked back to the others. "Grab your things; we best make our way there."

The three gathered in the boarding room as Joren and Mycroft donned their armors and Nathiira prepped her spells. "Tell me, Joren…" Mycroft posed as he cinched down his boots. "What is the deal you have with our rather enigmatic, frosty tempered, maiden with a bow?"

Joren paused briefly as he secured the straps of his breastplate. "It is… complicated." he muttered hesitantly.

"She is rather disciplined, though sometimes her mere presence is a bit... I dare say... unsettling." Nathiira confidingly added.

"Oh, I would not worry too much about that."Mycroft snickered. "We all have our own little personality quirks."

Nathiira reclined in on her arm, resting her chin in her hand as she leaned her arm on her knee. "Please... enlighten me." She grinned as Joren too became interested in what Mycroft had to say as he folded his now gauntleted arms across his chest with humored smirk upon his face.

"Well, milady, you are wise and have a keen intuition in analyzing things. You have a very kindly demeanor about you that suits you. Joren here is all business with this commanding aura floating about him. Always direct and blunt as the hammer he wields."

"That was subtle." Joren mocked in jest.

"You see… my point exactly. Now, the fair Syndel… she is certainly self-assured with a reclusive candor. Though icy on the surface, there is spirited and indomitable fire in her eyes."

"I must admit, you certainly have a way with words, Mycroft. Chivalrous and suave." Nathiira beamed.

Mycroft extended a flourishing bow to her. "You are too kind, milady." Joren stepped over and flicked Mycroft on top of his headed with his cased finger. "Ow! What was that for?" Mycroft exclaimed as he rubbed his head.

"Just a capping off your head before it got too big." Joren chuckled as headed for the stairs, "You still talk too much."

Nathiira simply shook her head as she motioned the dejected Mycroft to come along, following Joren down and out the door.

_West Weald: Imperial Reserve: Northwest of Kvatch_

The group of intrepid adventurers effortlessly steamed their way towards Kvatch. Syndel's trail had brought through wilds of the area unscathed, having dropped all creatures ahead of their path. It was only an hour after sunset as Joren, Mycroft, and Nathiira, stopped as they reunited with Syndel who leaned against a tree, just short of the open expanse before them.

"Trouble?" Joren questioned with a bit of reservation on his voice.

Syndel motioned for them to follow as she led them past a cluster of rocks. "Look." She pointed out in a mild undertone followed with a cock of her head .

The others looked on to see Kvatch blanketed under a sinister red and black storm high above. A series of thundering boom resounded off the tall walls as the winds around the plateau picked violently in front of them, though air remained calm around them.

"By the Nines!" Mycroft cried out in apprehensive awe. "Is THIS what you meant by something being amiss!?!"

"Not exactly." Joren answered remaining stalwart. "Nathiira?"

Nathiira gazed upon the spectacle before with a mix of dread and wonder. "I have never seen anything like this. It is Arcane in nature to be sure, yet the magnitude… this is not the work of any one mage."

"Thanks! That is very comforting..." Mycroft scoffed.

"Drop it." Joren snapped. "I am open to suggestions here."

Syndel surveyed the area around them quickly, "It is best to turn due south, connect with the Gold Road and continue from there." Joren eyed her questioningly as she matched his expression with a stoic front. "The road lies low and is shielded by the terrain and boulders to either side, even as it ascends near the main road to the city."

Joren concurred, "Looks to be the best option. Let's go."

_Kvatch: Refuge Encampment_

The group had made all haste and approached the city from the winding south road. As they ascended the hill, they saw a small crop of people who had apparently escaped the chaos that surrounded Kvatch. The survivors gathered around small campfires between make shift lean-to and tents which were doted about the immediate area to either side of the road. The few survivors, who had now become refugees, looked upon the four strangers with saddened, weary, and defeated eyes. The group continued on up the hill, cresting the last turn to be confronted with the sounds of combat and thunder sounding off as each drew their weapons and raced to the scene.

The earth around the front of the city was a blasted away and scorched by searing heat as the burning ring of a dimensional portal hissed between two twisted spires of volcanic rock that jutted upward from the broken ground. Three city guards were holding the line as they faced off against the whirling mass of Storm Atronach, a Clannfear, and a Spider Daedra.

Joren rushed the Atronach as Syndel notched an arrow and took aim at the Clannfear with Nathiira posting up next to her to get the most effective line of sight on all the targets while Mycroft bolted for the Spider. Syndel released her shot as it caught the reptile in the meat of its leg followed by a lightning blast from Nathiira's staff. Mycroft advanced and retreated upon the Spider with a series of slashes from his blade, drawing the insect away from the pressed guard. Joren ran at the Storm Atronach, full speed, his grip tightening around the handle of his hammer as he swung a full blow at the bulk of the swirling pile of rocks. Jorenfelt the wake of his blow return upon him yet he took no immediate damage from it. With the addition of the improvised reinforcements, the guards were able to regain the footing and pressed the attack back towards their enemy.

Syndel unleashed another arrow on the Clannfear as it attempted a short charge, dropping it in its tracks. She crouched low and shifted her stance to target the spider whereas Nathiira in turn focused on the Atronach. Nathiira knew her staff was useless as the Atronach was immune to electricity, opting to cast an Ice Blast at it instead. Mycroft was blasted with a lightning shot from Spider to which he stumbled slightly but caught his balance as he pushed his flurry of attacks and was able to pin the Spider into a corner as he and the guard blocked off it range of motion, able whittle down it health continuously, before it fell flat on the ground.

The Atronach belted Jorenwith a heavy backhand as Joren's feet plowed a short trench from the blow. He planted his foot into the cracked and dry soil as he extended his hammer and spun completely around using the weight and momentum of his hammer to increase his damage. The hammer clanged solidly against the larger of the floating rocks as the rough form the Atronach dismantled, smooth rocks spilling out across the area.

Joren paused briefly as he assessed the situation. "Get your men back!" he yelled over the roaring sizzle of the gate.

The guards collected themselves as they, Joren, and Mycroft, fell back behind the battered and hastily constructed barricade. Joren stared and brooded over the magical gate before him as the sweat drenched and beaten lead guard approached him. "I know not where you all came from friend, but I appreciate the help. We would not have lasted much longer if you had not shown up. I am Savlian Matius, Captain of the Kvatch Watch."

Joren looked about to see Nathiira applying heal spells to the other guards and Mycroft and Syndel policing the area. "Captain, tell me what happened here."

Matius sighed heavily, "It was like any other day, then all of a sudden these gates just started popping up all over the city and a flood of all manner of these creatures started rampaging through the city."

"Are your men and those people down the road all that survived?"

"I do not know for certain. My men and I were able to get many of the people out through the city's main gate while others were forced to retreat to the chapel. Once we got out, all the smaller gates inside the city closed and vanished, except for this large gate which appeared here and we were forced to stand our ground. Unfortunately, our numbers are dwindling, FAST, and these creatures just keep coming."

"Where is the one named, Martin?"

"The priest? He was in the chapel when the attack happened. He is most likely with those who took shelter there. I doubt any survivors are still there, alive." Matius replied grimly.

"We have to get into the city."

"Believe me, we have tried. That blasted gate blocks the path and if any tries to get to the city, more of those things pour out from the gate. The gate MUST be closed! There has got to be something keeping that gate open, but it is most likely on the other side. I sent a small unit of the guards ahead already and none have returned."

"Nathiira!" Joren called out as she looked up from her current ward and headed to him, "Any ideas on how to close that gate, magically?"

Nathiira eyed the gate critically, "If it is arcane in nature, there would have to be some sort anchor point acting as an immensely enchanted key, of sorts, to open and maintain it."

"Hmm… "Joren mulled over her words knowing he had but one choice ahead. "Mycroft! Syndel!" he called out as they quickly rejoined the group. He looked to each of his compatriots with a heavy heart and sighed. "Listen, I cannot leave here without Martin or at least have proof of his death, which means we got to get inside the Kvatch. In order to do that, it requires the closing of that gate over there, meaning that it has to be shut from the other side to accomplish this feat."

"That is a suicide mission and you know it!" Matius exclaimed in shock and Joren glared at him fiercely.

"Perhaps, but there is no other choice." Joren retorted as he looked back to the others, "I will get the gate closed, I need you all to fulfill my obligation."

Mycroft backhanded Joren's breastplate lightly, "Come, come now, Joren. What manner of talk is this? Do you seriously think I could let you can go traipsing into parts unknown and allow you to take all the glory? "

Joren raised a curious eyebrow as Nathiira followed suit with a look of confusion, "It was not part of our deal, nor am I asking you to put your neck out this far." Joren replied concerned and baffled.

"Oh, hang the deal! If it were found out that a gentleman adventurer, such as myself, stood idly by while you went off and risked your life to help these people in dire need. I would never hear the end of it. I am no coward and I do have a reputation to uphold, after all." Mycroft grinned slyly.

Nathiira stepped up confidently, "You asked about the gate, yet you do not know what the key is nor would you know how to deactivate the gate once you found it. Therefore, I HAVE to go with you to make sure you succeed and do not do more harm than good."

Joren shrugged, "It your choice, I am not forcing you two, nor will I deny you either."

Syndel looked about at the scene, "There are three guards left here. They will not last another assault."

Matius butted in and gave Syndel hostile look as she remained stoic. "How DARE you! I know not who you are or think you are but we have held out this long and we WILL hold out despite the circumstances; we will hold this ground with our very lives if we have to!"

"I will remain to make sure they do not counter-strike and increase your odds." Syndel callously replied.

"Done." Joren nodded as he, Mycroft, and Nathiira made their way to the gate and three ghostlike sounds of phased suction resonated through the area as they disappeared through the portal.

"May the Nines, watch over them." Matius mumbled lowly as he turned towards where Syndel was standing and gawked around in bewilderment to see she had utterly vanished right before his eyes, despite being right next to him.


	7. Chapter 7

_City of Kvatch: Ruins_

Syndel donned her Brotherhoodarmor and slipped silently through the gates of Kvatch. The city was aflame with the steeple of the chapel blocking off the main road and the crumbling hulks of the houses were littered about the streets. A Daedroth and a pair of Xililai casually roamed about the rubble. She carefully slithered her way through the maze and perched herself in the collapsed portion of a building as she watched the demons pattern, allowing her time to develop a strategy to deal with these alien forms.

XxXxXxX

The hellish terrain before them left Joren with a sense of dread for he now saw, first hand, what the Emperor meant by 'close shut the jaws of Oblivion'. He knew now that should if this world spill out on Cyrodiil, the world would laid waste to.

"LOOK! Over there!" Mycroft shouted as he pointed a flash of light and the vague form of one the Kvatch guards who was being chased by a Spider Daedra. Mycroft charged headlong at the creature as he broke away from the others at an unnatural speed. He rushed the Spider with a strafing slash as it let out a high pitched shriek. He spun around mildly pleased with himself as the moment was spoiled as he watched the Spider cast a healing upon itself. He stepped forward to try again as he felt the burning sting of a stinging bite prick into his leg as he looked to see a Spiderling biting into his ankle. His body rapidly began to stiffen as he became paralyzed and face-planted into the volcanic surface beneath his feet.

Joren stepped in as he laid into the spider with a heavy blow as Nathiira followed up with a blast from her staff causing the Spider to drop and the Spiderling to fade from existence. Nathiira rushed to the prone Mycroft and cast a remove paralysis upon him allowing him to pick himself up off the ground.

"Many thanks, milady." Mycroft nodded as he looked to Joren, "That was not suppose to happen."

Joren cocked his head slightly, "We best be on our guard."

"These things have a rather unusual set of abilities at their disposal." Nathiira commented as she examined the Spider and removed the useful portions of it.

The running guard returned to the group hurriedly, "You… You saved my life…. I shall never forget this." The guards said catching his breath.

Joren scanned the desolate area around them, focused and alert, "Where is the rest of your unit?"

"The others were taken to the Tower, just ahead. I managed to escape, yet these things are relentless. You saved my life, so I will help you as best I can."

"No… "Joren replied flatly, "You need to report back to your Captain and tell him of this. They need you at the barricade."

"Very well… I'll head back through the Gate and report my findings. Good Luck." The guards replied as he turned and headed for the Gate and disappeared.

"Well, He did not put up much resistance in honoring his life debt." Mycroft scoffed in disbelief.

"Can you blame him?" Nathiira retorted candidly, "After all he was ordered here, he did not choose to take up this task."

"Moot point. We cannot stay here. We have to find a way to that tower." Joren pushed and continued down the broken path followed by the others.

XxXxXxX

Syndel lied in wait as she slowly unrolled the summoning scroll and spoke the words as a Flame Atronach appeared as the base of the remaining house foundation as it ran out, attempting to ambush the three enemies casting out a flame strike. Syndel watched as the magically glyphed demon absorbed the spell as it and the others charged the summoned construct. The Daedroth and the two Xililai surrounded the lone Atronach as they pummeled it without remorse, dispatching it quickly.

With all of them corralled together, Syndel charged up a fair amount of her magicka and lobbed a Frenzy spell upon the Daedroth. The giant beast snarled lightly as it reeled back its massive claws and swung at one of the Xililai. The wounded Xililai roared in anger as he and his pseudo-twin began to defend themselves, exchanging blows with the larger creature. Syndel watched the spectacle with a snide grin, as the Daedroth beat back both of the Xililai with ease.

As one of the Xililai fell the other retreated back and began to cast spells upon its opponent. The spells slowed the Daedroth's advance, for the moment, as the casting demon unleashed his volley and followed up with a defensive stance. Syndel mischievous snickered as she unleashed a Flame Bolt on to the demon. She watched as the spell was absorbed and the Xililai cocked his head slightly as it scanned to see where the spell came from before another rake from the Daedroth drew its attention back to the situation at hand as he cast a Shield spell upon itself.

The spell gave the Xililai a few more seconds of life as the Daedroth swiped at the Xililal several more times before it too fell like its brethren. Syndel could see the large lizard had taken some injury from the fray and let loose an arrow that struck the creature through its shoulder blade. The Daedroth snarled, its body shuttered, as it cast its own shield spell and turned rapidly around to hone in on its new threat. The Daedroth roared as if initiating a challenge to its hidden opponent.

"You have served your purpose." Syndel remarked uncaringly as her second shot thrust its way through the back of its maw as the giant creature as it fell flat on its back.

XxXxXxX

"You and your kind will fall to the might of our lord." the Dremora Mage hissed at the imprisoned guard in the cage. Mycroft stealthily flanked mage who threw back his head and laughed maniacally only to be cut short through a gurgling yelp as Mycroft sunk his blade to the hilt through the back of the Dremora.

"And Joren says I talk too much…" Mycroft jeered as the mage slumped to the floor.

"Hurry!" the caged guard shouted, "He was the Gatekeeper. You must take his key and get to the Citadel. You have to remove the magical stone at the top in order to close the Gate." He beckoned as Joren and Nathiira stepped up onto the crude, spider web flooring.

"We have to get you out of there. Mycroft, can you get him out?"

"There's no time! Forget about me! Just get that gate closed!" the guard bellowed as Mycroft examined the cage intently, sighing as he looked to Joren, shaking his head with a discontented look.

Joren hung his head and groaned as he examined the body of the dead gatekeeper and plucked the key from his belt and removed the staff strapped to his back. "Think you can use this?" he inquired as he tossed the staff to Nathiira.

Nathiira caught the staff and inspected it, "I have only three more charges in my current one. This however, may prove useful."

"Alright, we need to double back across that bridge. Let's go."

Nathiira and Mycroft nodded and made their way down the crude, spiraling walkway as Joren followed. He stopped short and looked back to the trapped guard and sighed. "Your actions will not be in vain. I swear it."

"Just get that Gate closed." The guard replied stoically.

XxXxXxX

Syndel peered through a small opening within the collapsed steeple to see a horde of more demons gathered on the east side of the city, split off by the grating at the castle gate house. She surveyed the scene and headed to the chapel. She pounded on the door as she saw a light that was seeping out through a break in the door suddenly be replaced by a peeking eye as she heard the slide being removed followed by the door being cracked opened, as much as it possibly could, despite its pummeled state.

Syndel entered the dimly lit chapel which held a pair of guards and a handful of survivors. The female guard barred the door once more as she approached Syndel. "What's it like out there?" she nervously questioned.

Syndel looked into her shocked and weary eyes with a cool demeanor, "It is quiet for now. Other creatures are gathered on the other side of the collapse. Time is not in your favor." She replied with certainty. "The way is clear, for now. You would do well to move your wards."

"But that magical portal… It still blocks the main gate. We can't-"

"The portal will be closed." Syndel interrupted in a frigid tone, "When it is shut, that will be your cue. Is there another way to the gatehouse?"

"Inian over there has the key, why?" the female guard answered in mild curiosity.

Syndel strode up on the other guard and stared at him grimly, "I need the key."

Inian glared at her with angst and reservation, "Why should I give YOU the key?"

"It is not open for discussion. It will buy some time."

"It's your funeral…" Inian sneered as he removed the key from his large iron key ring, "Here, take it. Follow the path through the undercroft. It will lead you there." Syndel turned sharply and proceeded to the tunnel without so much as word being said.

XxXxXxX

The sheer volume of the roar emanating from the pillar of volcanic fire and the resonance of latent magicka from the sigil stone was near deafening. Nathiira aimed her newly acquired staff at the Dremora as a green twirling block-like shape jetted from the end and struck the Kynval, causing his armor to creak and buckle as its integrity was weakened heavily. Joren swung his hammer hard as it fell upon the sternum portion of the Kynval Daedric breastplate, leaving a large divot in its wake as the Dremora fell dead before Joren.

Joren scanned the area before him as Nathiira made her way cautiously to the basin the stone was hovering over while he saw Mycroft reaching through the hanging mass of rendered flesh that was woven into a sack, a disgusted look on his face. Mycroft removed the inner contents and raced over to Joren, "That… has to be to be the most absolute, worst ever, bad idea and act I have ever take part in." He commented sickly, resisting the urge to expel the contents of his stomach over his action.

Joren glared at Mycroft sternly. "We have no time to loot. That is not what we are here for."

"Oh!?!" Mycroft piped up astounded, "Did you not confiscate that staff you gave our lovely little mage friend there? And tell me you were not thinking of swiping that fallen knight's armor over there, hmm?" he jested, motioning to the fallen Dremora. "You know as well as I it is tougher than what you have. Besides, it would impede me too much to wear it, let alone haul it off." Joren conceded through a grunt as he ripped the remnants of the armor off the body as Mycroft smiled at his mock triumph, "Ha! It seems I have bested the mighty Joren. Score one for the gentleman adventurer!"

Joren smugly tossed a rough honned Daedric short sword at Mycroft as he began tucking away the armor pieces, "You missed this, mister reputation… you may have won this fight, but you have a lot of ground to cover to claim to have conquered."

Mycroft assessed the blade and smirked, "I suppose…" he retracted as they joined Nathiira at the edge of the ledge.

"Have you figured it out?" Joren inquired rather hesitantly.

Nathiira went over every angle of the device with extensive scrutiny. "The stone is definitely the key, drawing power from this realm to keep the Gate open."

"How long will it stay open? Let us not forget, we have to cover quite bit of ground to get out of here." Mycroft interjected concerned.

Nathiira sighed heavily and with reservation, "If we were to remove this stone, the closing would be almost instantaneous."

"I see. Well, it has been a pleasure, but-"

"Do it." Joren ordered firmly as he snatched Mycroft by the collar, futily trying to break free of his grasp.

Nathiira took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly as she reached out and grasped the stone and pulled it from its holding. The area around the landing quieted as the flaming pillar was sucked into the void created by the removed stone as the area suddenly began a void then imploded as flames washed over them and they were bathed in a bright light.

A shrieking thunderclap sounded around them as they found themselves outside the city walls. The flaming Oblivion Gate collapsed in on itself and fizzled out violently as the twin spires, from which the gate was emitting from crumbled around them.

The three of them each opened their eyes to see the arid remains of Kvatch before them as Matius and his men ran out from behind the barricade. Mycroft looked to the mage with a sheepish expression, "You knew that was going to happen, did you not?"

Nathiira shrugged, letting out a subtle smile and shrugged as she cradled the dark marble Sigil Stone in her arms. "I did not have the time to explain that part." She replied coyly.

"I had faith in her." Joren added flatly, "It is a shame you did not."

"Ok, my apologies, milady; however..."

"It is alright, Mycroft. I am not offended."

"You did it! I can't believe it." Matius cried out as he came up to meet them, "Now we can get to the other survivors and take back the city!"


	8. Chapter 8

_Kvatch: Chapel of Akatosh_

Three Imperial legionaries entered the chapel as Joren, Nathiira, Mycroft, Matius, and his men lingered around the vestibule of the church. "We saw the smoke from the road and we are here to assist you."

"Many thanks. The Count is cut off inside the keep and these demons stand in our path. Someone is going to have to get to the gate house and raise the gate."

Inian turned to Matius with a confused look on his face. "Captain, a young woman came in and has already made her way towards there."

"What!?! How long ago?" Matius said in a state of confusion.

"Not long, only a few minutes ago. I assumed she was here under your order."

"Black leathers; Ornate bow; Spoke little?" Joren probed dully looking to Inian.

"Yes. You know of her?"

"The archer I left, Captain." He calmly replied as Matius snapped a concerned look at Joren, "She works better alone. She did trim the line out there and is most likely doing the same at the gate house."

"Damn, we need to make our attack, now. We'll break off into two units, my men and I in one and the rest in the other."

"See you at the gate house. Let's move." Joren nodded as he readied his hammer and the small force barged out east door into the swarm of demons.

XxXxXxX

The narrow corridor afforded her no concealment as she was forced to confront the creatures directly within the passage. Syndel clutched her shoulder where the Xililai had struck her with his axe while she retrieved salvageable arrows from its corpses with her free hand, releasing her frustrations by crudely ripping them from the body. She checked her count and was down to less than ten arrows in her quiver. She knew she would need to be more selective in her targets if she was to make any headway.

She removed the cork from her healing potion and downed it quickly as the cool, soothing rush consoled her wound, but was unable to fully remove it, while she resumed her stalk up the short rise and entered the main fairway of the gate house. She heard the low growl and shifting of feet from the demons trapped in the inner courtyard of the keep. She cleared her mind and cast invisibility upon herself. Though brief, it was enough for her to clear the open gap between the partitions as she reached the control mechanism as the spell faded within seconds.

If front of the gate she heard the swell of roars and snarls as many of the ones trapped between the gate and the ruins moved in mass towards the chapel. She watched as the guards had regrouped and Joren, Mycroft, and Nathiira, joined with soldiers from the Legion, assaulted the drove of demons, making their way towards her position. The combined force of twelve formed as a spearhead, asserting themselves as they were able to pick off and gradually overcome their opponents, as they attempted to crash the gates. The force moved closer while the demons within the courtyard began to howl and stir in anxious angst as several Xililai, who were perched upon the top of the keep, began to rain fire down upon the offensive strike. The twelve were slowly reduced to nine with the loss of two of the city watch and one soldier by the time they finished off the immediate threats and took cover along the gatehouse itself.

"SYNDEL!!!" Joren yelled through the front partition over the excited wave in the courtyard behind the second one. "Open these gates and do something about those conjurers!"

Syndel curtly nodded as she turned the large crank wheel, causing the gates to rise. As the counterweights took over, the second wave began to feverishly rush through forming opening, while she re-cast her invisibility to remove herself from their line of sight. As the hoard harried the others, she made a break from the gate house and found refuge in a fallen portion of debris as she neutralized the arcane snipers before moving on.

XxXxXxX

Joren and the others funneled the onslaught along the bridge as the fighting became tight and narrow. The larger creatures hampered the smaller and vice versa and the mortals were able to hold the line. One by one the demons fell as they were able to push their way across the bridge and on through to the keep, losing yet another watchman and soldier in the process.

The remaining force fanned out across the courtyard as they faced off with the remaining creatures while Matius made a break for the Keep itself. Joren followed on his heels as they breached the main doors and took on a group of Flame Atronachs and a Kynval, who was apparently controlling them, gathered upon the throne pedestal stonework, in the midst of the interior being set ablaze.

Pelted by multiple flame strikes, Joren pressed through as the constructs formed a defensive line in front of the Dremora Mage as he too began to cast upon them. Joren and Matius were assaulted mercilessly until they saw the mage double over and flail out in front of them, a large open gash filleted across its back. Joren quickly glanced back onto the throne area as he saw the shadowy form of Syndel morph back into existence, brandishing a bloodied glass longsword. She heartlessly strode over to them as she reviewed her handy work, tossing a ring to Matius. "Your liege is dead, has been for some time." She callously commented.

Matius sighed with a heavy heart, "We… We were too late. Had we only gotten here sooner-"

Joren slung his hammer and laid his gauntlet on Matius's shoulder. "You did not fail, Captain. You may not have saved the Count, however you did reclaim the city. That is what is important."

Matius sighed once more, "Perhaps your right… I could not have done this without your help and the help of your companions." Matius side stepped Joren slightly as he undid the straps of his cuirass and pulled it over his head. "I have nothing to properly reward you, but here… take this… I'm tired of fighting…"

Joren eyed Matius questioningly, yet he knew deep down how the captain was feeling and nodding begrudgingly taking the armor as Matius walked off and examined the damage. Joren turned back to Syndel who was rifling through the body of the dead Dremora, collecting potions and spell scrolls.

XxXxXxX

_Kvatch: Refugee Encampment_

The red and black maelstrom had faded into a relatively commonplace gathering of dark clouds that laid out a blanket of gentle rain that slowly began to douse the random fires in and around the city. Mycroft, Nathiira, and Syndel were huddled inside in one of the many small group tents within the encampment as Nathiira applied heal spells upon Mycroft, Syndel, and herself. They quietly nodded to Nathiira in thanks as Syndel withdrew her blade and began tending to it.

"Impressive blade you have there." Mycroft remarked in modest awe, "Did you acquire it in the fight?"

Syndel paused briefly as her eyes glared sharply at Mycroft, "It is mine." She replied smugly as she continued on her maintenance.

"Humph... I figured you for a tried and true, pure archer."

Syndel popped her blade up in the air, spinning it end over end, catching it mid flight, and eyed the edge as she pointed it directly at Mycroft, the tip wavering inches from his face. Nathiira took a step back in surprised gasp as Mycroft slowly swallowed down his nerve. "I prefer a bow. Though do not typically wield a blade, it does not mean I do not know how to use one." She added in mild annoyance.

Mycroft drew back his head slightly and lightly brushed the blade away. "Point taken…" he said apologetically as her retrieved the collected quiver of Daedric arrows and presented them before Syndel. "I happened upon these during our little excursion to the nether region. I thought you might find them useful." Syndel plucked the quiver from his hand as she slowly sheathed her blade, stood up, and walked off. He looked to Nathiira who sharing a rather shocked expression as she sat next to him. "Correct me if I am wrong, but she really not like me, does she?"

Nathiira shrugged, "Syndel is rather… closed off. I tend to think she is just setting her boundaries and keeping us at arm's length, although I know not why. I assume she has her reasons." She noted objectively.

"Well, according to her, it is probably none of our concern…"Mycroft sarcastically jest.

Nathiira concurred with a slight shrug while she turned her attentions to Joren who conversing with the dark haired priest a short distance off. "This ordeal and the matter with this priest, troubles me." Nathiira sighed wearily as she leaned in on her knees.

"Pray tell, milady." Mycroft inquired as he reclined and stretched out. "What troubles you?"

"I know that Joren did not expect all this, but deep down, I know there is more to this story than we have been told."

"Just like the old saying, 'what tangled web we weave, when first we try to deceive.'" Mycroft grinned.

"Possibly… However, I am finding hard to believe that it was Joren's true intent to do so. He is… rather frank."

"Ah, the plot doth thicken… it could be that he is not trying to be deceitful, he is just omitting certain facts."

Nathiira looked to Mycroft with somber eyes, "I am being serious. Why does he not just tell us the truth?"

"Come, come now, milady. That would not be very sporting of him. After all, the fun lies in puzzle and chasing the truth to solve the mystery. Being a dabbler in the arcane, I thought it to be a prerequisite."

Nathiira chuckled softly, "Well said… perhaps, a little more patience is order."

"Quite, Let us see how this plays out." Mycroft added as he and Nathiira got to their feet while Joren walked up, ducking his head inside the tent.

"Sorry, to interrupt" Joren announced grimly, "but we can only make this a short breather. We need to get Brother Martin to the Priory. If we leave now, we should make it there by early morning, following our initial track." Joren look around questioningly, "Where is Syndel?"

"Off, being herself, I suppose." Mycroft shrugged.

"Well, she will no doubt catch up if she is not already making her way there." Joren noted subjectively. "If you are ready, we need to move out."

XxXxXxX

_Weynon Priory:_

As the mid morning sun lightened the way before them, the trio of guardians became alarmed as a cry for help came from the Priory. Joren and Mycroft rushed to the scene as they saw strangely armored figured attacking the residence. Nathiira and Martin skirted the line and began casting various spells at the unknown assailants as Joren and Mycroft joined the fight in defense of the Priory.

One by one, the assailants were dispatched as the illusionary visage of the armor clad individuals was dispelled and cloaked forms in red and black trimmed robes fell at their feet. They rushed to the inner portion of the Priory and found Jaufree surrounded yet holding his own against multiple opponents. With the odds tipped in his favor, Jaufree, Joren, and Mycroft quickly quelled the threats. Jaufree ran up the stairs to a discreet room where he examined a destroyed chest.

"They have taken the Amulet!" Jaufree cried out in disbelief.

Mycroft looked up the stairs and back to Joren who was knelt down over one of the dead foes, investigating the cloaked figure with a great deal of despair forming on his troubled face. "What is it, Joren? And what is this Amulet the priest so worried about?"

"This is not my first encounter with these mystic assassins." Joren replied dejectedly as he slowly rose to his feet, brooding over the dead body.

"Assassins?!? What do you mean assassins?" Mycroft exclaimed in utter shock.

Joren looked to Mycroft and shook his head, waving off his line of questioning "Now is not the time." He said as Jaufree rejoined them below.

"Where is Martin? Were you able to find him? Is he safe?" Jaufree inquired adamantly.

Joren held up his hands, "He is alive and with us."

"Praise Akatosh…" Jaufree sighed in relief.

"Excuse me, Prior." Mycroft stepped up, "I have a few questions here that needs some answers."

Jaufree looked to Mycroft with a heavy heart. "I am afraid I have few answers to give you, my friend, in regards to what all has transpired here, that is."

Joren scanned the interior and looked to Mycroft with a stern look as Mycroft raised his hands in relent. "Okay, fine… before you go off and say that now is not the time, I will hold my tongue."

Joren hung his head shook it in disgust before looking to Jaufree. "This place is no longer safe."

Juafree nodded, "Yes, if these assassins knew of the location of the Amulet, they would not doubt return for Martin as well."

"Agreed, though where do we take him?" Joren questioned.

"There is only one place Martin can truly be safe. That is at Cloud Ruler Temple."

"Cloud Ruler Temple? I have never heard of such a place." Mycroft posed with a raise eyebrow.

"Nor have I." Joren added.

"It is an ancient fortress and the main stronghold for the Blades. In resides, north of Bruma, high in the Jerall Mountains making the location is highly defensible and it is heavily fortified with contingent of Blades always stationed within."

"Please tell me we can take horses…" Mycroft asked in a weary and worried tone.

"Of course, we need to make all haste." Jaufree affirmed.

"Done. Lead the way." Joren commented as they left the Priory.

XxXxXxX

Nathiira watched as Brother Martin performed last rites over the body of Prior Maborel as Prior Piner began gathering the bodies. She surveyed the scene with despair and doubt. In such a short time, she had seen so much death and destruction through the manipulation of magic leaving too many questions and bleak outlook in trying to make sense of it all. She heard the door to the Priory open as Jaufree and Joren made their way to the stables an Mycroft casually walked up, rubbing and shaking his head is mild disgust. "What is it, Mycroft?" She asked in modest uncertainty.

Mycroft chuckled, "It appears, milady, that we are not quite finished with this little deed of Joren's. It appears we will be taking, Good Martin here, to place in the mountains. Apparently, this location is no longer safe."

"Very well, if that is needs to be done." Nathiira read Mycroft's perturbed face carefully, "Yet, you do not seem too pleased over the matter."

"It is like I said, milady. The plot doth thicken. A few new points of interest have come to light." Mycroft threw up his hands, giving in to defeat over the situation, "However I think in following Brother Jaufree, a lot questions will be answered."

Syndel rounded the edge of the Priory, dressed in her normal attire, as Mycroft and Nathiira exchanged words. Mycroft looked over Nathiira's shoulder with a subtle smirk. "Still with us, I see." He said slightly amused as Syndel remained stoic. Nathiira turned and nodded to Syndel then turned back to Mycroft as walked to the stables with Martin in tow, mounted their horses and headed up the northern road towards Bruma.


	9. Chapter 9

_Cloud Ruler Temple: Main Hall_

Upon resting themselves within the security of the fortress, after dealing with the destruction of Kvatch and the long, hard ride to the Temple, the solemn stillness of the citadel was a welcome reprieve. Joren sat at the mess table, quietly drinking from his tankard. He gazed into the large fireplace across from him in an absentminded trance as the logs softly popped and cinders fell upon the hearth. His concentration was broke as he heard a faint thud and looked upon the wine bottle that was in front of him as Mycroft casually sat down across from him.

"A man should never drink alone." Mycroft smirked as he tipped his silver goblet to him with a sly smirk. "It is just not proper."

"Something on your mind or are you here to settle up on your debt?" Joren grumbled lightly as he took a long draw of his ale.

Mycroft contained a wily chuckle, "Not entirely. After speaking with a few of the honor guard around here, I found out something rather… interesting." Joren looked over the rim of his tankard with questioning eyes. "From what I gathered you are quite the legend, Joren." Mycroft stroked his chin in fake contemplation and looked vague to the ceiling as Joren slowly set his tankard down on the table. "What was it they called you? Oh yes, Yhaurn the Immortal, wielder and master of the Relentless Warrior."

Joren hung his head and shook it disgust as he sighed heavily. He looked over his shoulder to see Nathiira patiently standing off at a respectful distance away. "You might as well join us, milady." He chuckled to himself as Nathiira eased her way next to Mycroft. Joren leaned heavily on the table as he stared in his tankard. "The whole Immortal part is just a trivial and asinine claim drawn from others caught up in the chaos of the moment, nothing more. It means nothing."

"Oh, contraire! A name means everything. People treat you differently; some look upon you in awe and wonder; It also affords you the authority to command the attention of others, be it out of fear or humble respect. It is something to be valued highly." Mycroft jeered.

Joren's eyes hardened as he glared at Mycroft sternly, "A man does not always need a title. A man is just a man in the end."

"Oh, please! You can deny it all you wish, but you wear the badge of honor all too well."

Joren pushed himself hard to his feet as he lean over the table and loomed down, face to face with Mycroft. Mycroft expression shifted to a slight surprise to this sudden display as silence fell between for but a moment. "Trying living with that name for a while and then see how well it works." He commented firmly as he drew back and made his way to the fireplace.

Mycroft looked to Nathiira with a confused expression on his face, "It appears I must have, accidently, hit a raw nerve there." Nathiira sighed as she got ip and headed toward Joren, who was brooding silently, as he leaned on the mantle.

"Joren…" she said sympathetically, "please do not hold it against him. It was I that brought this on. With all that has transpired, as of late, there was just more questions than answers." Joren glanced over to her questioningly before turning away from her as Nathiira sighed disheartened. "I care not for who you are or were. I only am left wondering why you did not tell us of all this from the beginning."

"My reasons are now are obvious, are they not?" Joren pointed out in a rough tone.

"This is true. We were mere strangers to you and you took advantage of the opportunity. I cannot fault you for that. Your reasons were sound. In any event, we have dealt with the situation and I, for one, intend to help you regardless."

Joren turned to face her with an inquisitive expression, "And what of your rogue companion?"

Nathiira turned to Mycroft as he smiled and rose to his feet to join them. "Technically, I am still bound by our accord. So, in that, I am still at your disposal… within reason, of course."

"And if I were to settle up on the matter?" Joren snorted in faint amusement to his response.

"See, that is another matter. It seems that having saved the heir apparent, the unbeknownst Grand Master of the Blades, Brother Jaufree, has bestowed honorary ranks within the Blades to Nathiira and yours truly. Being the humble, gentleman adventurer that I am, I graciously accepted, though I hear you declined the offer. Despite all that, it would appear, now, that having ventured upon this path you set me upon, our paths are mutually intertwined, in a manner of speaking. Be that as it may, I am now held to the standard of protecting his grace and the empire as a whole."

"You… An Imperial Blade? Are you certain you are up for the task?" Joren scoffed in surprise.

"Do not get me wrong." Mycroft shrugged indifferently, "I may have involved myself in some rather… unscrupulous activities in the past, but I do happen to have much love for this land and the Empire, the late Uriel Septim, allowed me to prosper in; contrary to what may believe." Mycroft smiled warmly.

Joren looked to Nathiira openly, "And you, milady, are you going to take up this endeavor as well?"

Nathiira nodded curtly, "The threat we have witnessed and faced is all too real and endangers all of Cyrodiil, let alone all of Tamriel. I have already engaged myself in this undertaking; I cannot idly stand by and watch this world be destroyed. I too, share much the same sentiment as Mycroft in this matter."

Joren shrugged, "Suit yourself." He said gruffly as he returned to his drink and place at the table followed by his companions. "Since you are so curious about me, anything else you wish to know? We might as well get this past us if we are to move on."

"How did you come to acquire such a name?" Nathiira asked as Mycroft topped of Joren's tankard.

"Mainly, that hammer has cursed me with that name. I discovered it a long time ago and it has been a bane to my existence that has haunted me every day since. It is enchanted with the ability to draw the very life and energy from any that it strikes, human or otherwise."

"In turn, it transfers the power unto the wielder." Nathiira summarized

"Correct, milady."

"Surely, you did not just earn the name by simply possessing such a weapon." Mycroft shrugged faintly.

"That is also true. When I discovered its ability, I tried my hand at the arena. I defeated several opponents but before I could work my way up in the ranks, war broke out within Tamriel. The late Emperor called upon all who were willing and able to join him and fight under his banner. Many gladiators, like me, took up the call and were given hearty compensation as mercenaries. Through the magic of the hammer, I was considered to be the juggernaut of battlefield. I fought for the Empire, taking many lives in process, leaving nothing but despair and destruction in my wake." Joren took a drawn swig from his drink. "It is not something I am proud to look back upon, nor would any man."

"Still, you are considered a legend among men." Mycroft commented in a mild, flattering tone.

"Legend?" Joren annoyingly scoffed, "Ha! And where, exactly, do legends come from? A story is spun by an exaggeration of events. As each rendition of the tale is told, each adds their own bit of flair. From there on, the truth is buried upon a miserable pile of lies." He groaned.

"Is that why you took up the name of Joren? To, in effect, bury the legend?" Nathiira posed quickly to calm the situation.

"In a manner of speaking, you are correct, milady." Joren sighed, "As the person lives, the legend remains. Should the person fade from existence, the story merely falls back onto myth and folklore. That is, until another legend unfolds to takes its place. That was my hope, though it seems that I am yet to be free of it."

"Why not just pass on the hammer on to another? Let them carry on the legend?" Mycroft inquired sympathetically.

"I could not doom another to this fate. I admit, it may seems as though I am being purely selfish in my intents with it, however, who is to say that if it were to be passed on to another that they would not use it for darker purposes. Say, to be a murdering tyrant, perhaps? Or a merciless warlord who would prey upon the innocents? Would the Nines look favorably upon me if I were allow that to happen, be it here or in the afterlife? No, I could not allow that to happen."

"You make a very compelling argument…" Mycroft relented in a gracious nod.

"I cannot fault you for considering it to be your obligation in making sure it did not fall into the wrong hands. I respect your decision, but I must ask, Is it truly what made you want to bury the legend?" Nathiira questioned as she leaned in on her elbows.

"As with any legend…" Joren sighed heavily, "There are those who have been foolish or arrogant enough and sought to test their mettle against me. I have lost count in how many times I have been challenged for the sake of the renown of having faced off against the mighty, Yhaurn the Immortal. That also drove me to forego the name as much as possible."

"Yet, here you are. You may have given yourself a quick change of name, though you still carry the hammer you resent. Did you honestly think that no one would eventually take note and notice you?"

"There are times when the hand of fate deals you little choice."

"What do you mean?" Nathiira curiously asked.

"I was there when Emperor Uriel was slain. I watched as those rogue assassins that appeared at the Priory struck him down. Before he died, the Emperor told me he had read the stars in the sky and that it was fate the destined me to be there. He charged to deliver the Amulet of Kings and keep it safe, finding his last son, and to stopping the Lord of Destruction, whomever he may be."

"Funny, I did not figure you to be one who would believe in fate and destiny." Mycroft smiled.

"I do not whole heartedly stock faith in such notions, yet I do not deny it either."

"Then perhaps it was fate that we came across one another. In that, it would stand to reason that we are all fated to this revelation." Nathiira lightly commented.

Joren shrugged, "Who is to say, milady."

"So, you delivered the Amulet; problem solved; found the lost heir; again, another problem solved; now all that is left is to seek out this apparent Lord of Destruction." Mycroft summed up figuratively.

"Have you already forgotten, Mycroft? The assassins made off with the Amulet in the attack upon the Priory." Nathiira posed adamantly.

"Ok, so there is that little minor detail that needs to be resolved." Mycroft replied modestly.

"It is far from a minor issue. In order to legitimize his hereditary claim as a member of the Septim bloodline, his grace, Martin, will need to have the Amulet in his possession, if not around his neck when he is presented before the council." Joren posed assuredly.

"Ah, then I take back what I said. It is MAJOR issues, then. It is, after all, the Amulet of Kings; so it is only fitting. Although, these assassins... Do you suppose they are part of those ones who call themselves the Dark Brotherhood?" Mycroft solicited.

"They are not." Syndel said resolutely behind him.

Realizing her presence, Mycroft and Nathiira both turned to see Syndel leaning against the support pillar at their backs, her head down and arms folded, eyeing them disapprovingly. "How long have you been standing there?" Mycroft questioned flabbergasted.

"Long enough."

"She has been there since you first started talking about legends." Joren noted as he took another drink.

Nathiira looked back to Joren with uneasy reservation, to which Joren gave a half hearted shrug as Mycroft spun around and faced Syndel. "Anyways, are you certain of this?"

"I have to agree with Syndel." Nathiira implied hesitantly, "Of all the tall tales told of the Dark Brotherhood, they are said to act in secrecy, relying on shadow and stealth. It is essentially kind of tale parents tell to their young children to scare them into behaving them, lest the Dark Brotherhood would come and take them in the night."

Mycroft watched as Syndel shifted her stance uncomfortably to Nathiira's statement as she hung her head slightly, loathingly shaking her head.

"I see…" Mycroft remarked, "In light of Joren's take on myth and legend, is it fact or pure exaggeration?"

"Both." Syndel commented flatly as she looked to Joren as Mycroft followed her eyes and turned back to Joren.

"She has a point." Joren added, "What I witnessed when the Emperor was attacked, combined with what we saw happen at the Priory, this group has acted out en masse and in the open, more or less."

"Still, even if they are not of the Dark Brotherhood and are some unknown group of traitorous mystics, there is very little doubt that they were the ones behind the Emperor's murder. Even so, with the Emperor and his heir's dead, why still go after the Amulet of Kings?" Mycroft pointedly queried.

Nathiira pressed her index fingers together and tapped them lightly against her lips in contemplation. "Only a member of the Septim bloodline has the ability to light the Dragonfires."

"What if it has nothing to do with the bloodline?" Mycroft animatedly inquired, "What if the power lied within of the Amulet of Kings?"

Joren stroked his chin reflectively, "Hmm… If that were the case, whoever controlled the Amulet, controlled the Dragonfires and could ultimately crown themselves or someone of their choosing as Emperor."

"Precisely." Mycroft smiled triumphantly gesturing to Joren.

Nathiira shifted in her seat and turned to Mycroft, placing a hand gently on his forearm to settle him down, "I regret in having to discredit your claim, Mycroft. Nevertheless, the Amulet of Kings was handed down to the Septim line by the Nines. No one can wear the Amulet except for one of Septim blood. That has been a proven fact, many times over." Mycroft looked to her with sense of defeat on his face as Nathiira cocked her head and grinned compassionately, "Sorry, but you did make a rather valid rationale."

Mycroft smiled coyly, "No offense taken, milady. It is not the first time I have been proven wrong, to be sure." Mycroft leaned on the edge of his seat, running his fingers through his hair, dispirited, "Then, we are back to Joren's point."

"They did not know of the hidden son." Syndel uttered in a monotonous tone as she picked at her nails, idly.

"Excellent point!" Mycroft beamed looking over his shoulder, "If they HAD known of his existence, they would have assaulted him and forgone the Amulet."

"It only proves that if they controlled the Amulet, no one could lay claim the throne because only the Amulet could solidify the validity of the claim." Nathiira added skeptically.

Mycroft looked to Nathiira assuredly, "It would make sense. The land would be thrown into chaos, would it not?"

Joren stroked at his temple in self deliberation, "The council is in charge now. They have the power to appoint a new leader."

"Yes, but they would bicker and argue amongst themselves, no doubt." Mycroft attempted to validate confidently.

"The Lord of Destruction." Syndel interjected serenely.

Joren eyed Syndel suspiciously as Mycroft did a double take towards in confusion, "What of it?" Mycroft asked.

Syndel straightened her doublet nonchalantly, averting her eyes from them. "You fail to consider the context the prophecy."

Joren nodded is grim agreement, "She is right. We are perhaps looking in the wrong direction."

"True, what of the Dragonfires?" Nathiira chimed in, "It is said that as long as the Dragonfires burn the Nines would protect us, yet it never says from whom or what. If the Dragonfires were a mystical barrier protecting all of Tamriel…" Nathiira posed candidly.

Mycroft looked to Nathiira with a Cheshire grin showing concurrence, "Ah, and if an heir was found later, he could re-light them. If they had control of the Amulet…"

"It would mean that both, the one of the Septim line and the Amulet, are required to do such." Nathiira finished with poise.

"They are aiding this Lord of Destruction." Syndel extended a cool, pseudo gesture of delivering an imaginary gift as she walked past their table and headed through the main doors out into the courtyard.

"Point taken." Joren added bristly.

Mycroft looked to the other leadingly, "So, where does that leave us?"

"Better yet, what must we do now, Joren?" Nathiira inquired humbly.

Joren grin and chckled slight, sipping from his tankard, "You two must carry out your duties as members of Blades and see that our new Emperor remains safe from those mystic assassins."

"Even so…" Mycroft subtly exclaimed, "We have no idea who they are and what their role is in all this. It only mere speculation, at best."

"This is true." Nathiira mentioned softly, "If they possess the Amulet, then his grace is of no consequence, outright. Having, his grace, remain here for the time being, most certainly will keep out of harm's way. It is the duty of the Blades to protect the Imperial family. There nothing stating that we must lie in wait. Can we not actively pursue this threat to his grace?"

"The Amulet needs to returned, no doubt." Mycroft added frankly.

"It would be best for you two to run this past your new superior, Grand Master Jaufree."

"Of course." Nathiira replied.

"Wait a moment!?! You make it sound as if you are not going to go with us, Joren?" Mycroft asked him suspiciously.

"It is your plan. I am just going to tag along to make sure you do not embarrass the Blades." Joren rose to his feet as he finished of his tankard with a pleasant sigh and smirked. "Who knows… maybe all your constant blabbering might finally be put to good use." Mycroft rolled his eyes and buried his face in humiliation as Joren chuckled to himself quietly and walked off.

Nathiira leaned over and placed her hand on Mycroft's shoulder compassionately. "Pay no heed to his teasing, Mycroft." she whispered softly, "I, for one, am humbled and admire your sudden surge of confidence and authority in assuming you place as an Imperial Blade." Mycroft snorted in modesty to her words as Nathiira leaned in timidly, pecked a short a gentle kiss of reassurance on his cheek, before she quickly retreated in awkwardness of the moment and darted across the hall. Mycroft was stunned by the kind gesture which made him blush as he laughed off his foolishness.

XxXxXxX

The sun was warmly setting on the western horizon while several of the blades were sparring in their respective practice areas as Joren, Mycroft, and Nathiira walked out onto the courtyard. Syndel stood at the steep edge of the southwest wall, focused intently on the area down in the low lands of the mountain range.

"What is it?" Joren flatly inquired.

"Look… just to the north of those pair of Ayleid archways."

The others glared and squinted in the relative direction as the faint glow of fiery orange and blood red illumination flickered wildly in the growing shadow of the sunset.

"You have a keen eye that shames any hawk, Miss Syndel." Mycroft smiled in compliment.

"Damn, another Gate…" Joren protested in a subtle moan.

"From this distance it is hard to tell if it is as powerful as the one we observed in Kvatch." Nathiira noted assuredly.

"It would be a safe bet to say that where there is one…" Mycroft shrugged sarcastically.

"Agreed. " Joren noted grimly.

Nathiira shook her head in disgust, "We will make no progress if we have to stop and close these portals, yet we cannot allow those demons to spill out unchecked."

"Look, that one there is far too remote to be of any consequence." Mycroft added.

"I will deal with the demon gates." Syndel announced flatly.

"Alone!?! Are you touched in the head?" Mycroft scoffed as Syndel eyed him frigidly.

"That stone you took is the key, correct?" Syndel asked firmly, her eyes still affixed on Mycroft who was returned her glare with an edgy expression of withdrawal.

"Yes." Nathiira replied sharply.

Joren stroked his forehead as he looked to Syndel. "We will be in the Imperial City; Two, maybe three days. Otherwise, return here. Close what you can. No heroics." He pointed out very directly as Syndel nodded curtly and made her way hastily past the main gate.

Mycroft gawked at Joren in astonishment with his hand firmly on his hips. "I cannot believe her. I make one remark, one realistic and snide remark, and she is ready to rip my throat out."

"She is trained on her 'prey', in a manner of speaking. It is best o leave her to it." Joren replied as Mycroft mockingly rolled his eyes and folded his arms, displeased over the situation. Joren looked to Nathiira shaking his head in disbelief. How long will you need, milady?"

Nathiira half shrugged, "Less than a day."

"Then you and Mycroft make your way to where you need to go. I will make my way to the Imperial City and track down Baurus." Nathiira nodded as Joren turned for the main gate then stopped himself short, "Oh! And…" Joren stepped over and flicked his gauntleted finger against Mycroft's head.

"Hey! What was that for?" Mycroft scoffed as he rubbed his head.

"Just to keep you in check… Do not let the fact that you're a Blade, go to your too fast." Joren smirked as Nathiira chuckled softly, covering her sneer.


	10. Chapter 10

_Frostcrag Spire:_

The cold mountain wind howled softly through the peaks of the Jerall mountains as a gentle snow began to fall around the area. Mycroft and Nathiira ascended the smooth slope steadily as the wizard's tower came into view. Mycroft stopped short and admired the rotating rings and the unusual architecture of structure before him, "Fascinating…" he remarked in awe, "You live here, milady?"

Nathiira nodded as they climbed the series of steps to the main door. "I inherited this Spire. It is remote enough that I can conduct my research and studies without disturbing others. It is quiet, peaceful, and hardly anyone ventures this high into the mountains." Nathiira turned the archaic key causing a set of gears and tumblers to turn and groan under the weight of the heavy steel door as it slid open to the side.

The two elves made their way inside as the faint blue glow of arcane energy lit the entry way and as arcane torchlight danced against the vastness of the tower's inner base. Mycroft gazed dizzily overhead, in awe of the sheer height of the ceiling.

"Set those armor pieces Joren collected over there by the altar." Nathiira said as she pointed toward the raised dais towards the back of the tower. Mycroft groaned as he set down the heavy load of demonic metal next to the Alter of Enchanting as a low hum resonated in the chamber. He looked about to see that Nathiira was no longer with him. He hopped down from the rise as he called out for her. Again, the room resounded with the same, unearthly hum as he turned to see Nathiira walking towards a nearby bookcase along the wall, perusing through the various tomes and volumes. Plucking a book from one of the sets, she turned to see Mycroft who had a seriously confused, gawking expression.

"How did… Where did you..." he mumbled.

"Oh!" she piped up in embarrassment. "I am so sorry. This place has a unique addition, not commonly found in most places." Nathiira stepped over onto a blue and purple glowing pedestal. "Come over here. I will show you." Mycroft eyed her hesitantly as approached the strange circle step on the floor as he stood next to her, flecks of light floating upward around them. "It is a teleport pad. It will take you to the next floor and back again."

"I see… how does it work?"

"It is actually quite simple." Nathiira gently took his hand in hers, "You simple say the activation word. _Se-lundra…"_ A flash of light enveloped them as the area around them shifted from a vast open chamber to a quaint, well lit room. "And it takes you to the second level." She finished without missing a beat.

Mycroft retracted his hands quickly as his eyes darted about the room in a mildly fearful state. "Milady… Would you be so kind and warn me before you attempt such a feat again."

Nathiira blushed, "Forgive me. I rarely have visitors and forget that many have not experienced such a device."

"Yes, well, it is definitely quicker than a flight of stairs, to be sure."

Nathiira stepped off the pad and laid her book down on the Alchemy table as she scanned through the ingredients she had stacked on the table and began brewing a mixture. Mycroft casually paced around the Alchemical garden, examining the various floras about the room in pure wonderment.

"I am curious, milady." Mycroft asked from as he examined the various plant life, "With all of this at your disposal, why are you only an Apprentice of the Mage's Guild.

Nathiira eyed the mixtures in the alembic carefully, "I studied under my own initiative, yet the Guild has more resources available." she answered in a focused state as she poured the contents of the apparatus in to several bottles and set them aside, turning back towards Mycroft who was leaning against the entryway. "They recognize my skill and ability, yet all members must follow their edicts and progress through the ranks accordingly. I have only recently joined."

"I can see where that sort of levels the playing field and eliminates thoughts to birthright and privilege to a chosen few; despite the fact that ones who have talent are hampered in the beginning."

"I do not mind it. I actually find it to be rather self-gratifying in earning my ranking through what I have accomplished."

"Well said, milady. So what have been concocting over there?"

Nathiira turned and gathered up the potion bottles she created, "A few potions that will help restore health and stamina. The rest of us do not have the luxury afforded, like Joren's hammer provides."

"So true, milady, so true… It would seem we will have need of them, at the rate we are going." Mycroft commented as Nathiira opened the cabinet nearby and removed a red silk robe and matching hood. "I was also ill prepared before and I need to better equip myself." She half grinned modestly, "Would you turn around, please." Mycroft raised curious eyebrow before it donned on him what she meant and bowed in a courteous spin, but afforded himself a peek in the passing moments.

XxXxXxX

_Oblivion Gate: North of Ayelid ruins of Rielle_

She clung to the Sigil stone tightly with one hand, covering the searing wound at her side with the other, as the Gate collapsed behind her. She scanned the immediate vicinity as the darkness of the midnight hour loomed overhead and a Clannfear and a Legion Forrester lay dead nearby. She walked up on the deceased soldier and immediately went into a stalking position as she saw the steel dagger protruding through his neck, realizing he had been killed by another. Her eyes cautiously skimmed through the shadows as she took note of a dark robed form leaning against the rubble of the closed Oblivion gate.

"Hello, Syndel. My, my… It is amazing how you have blossomed into fine young woman! It has been some time since we last saw each other." The vaguely familiar male voice of a Breton called out to her.

"Do you require something… Speaker?" she choked through the wincing pain as she rose to her feet.

"Just a simple question; tell me, where is your father hiding these days?"

Syndel eyed him harshly, realizing it was Bellamont. "He is not hiding."

"Is he now?" Bellamont wily scoffed, "His actions speak otherwise."

"What do you mean?"

Bellamont threw back his head, sighed, then looked down, shaking his head disappointingly, "It is not surprising that Lucien has kept you in the dark on his little scheme. Then again, perhaps you are simply unaware of what has been transpiring, as of late." he shrugged as he made his way to the dead forester and retrieved his dagger. "No matter… It appears that your father has appointed a new Silencer."

"His previous one perished."

"Yes, yes they did. A sad state of affairs to be sure. Strange that he did not appoint you to that status. Don't you think?" He commented intrigued as she casually paced around Syndel.

"It would be a conflict of interest."

"Oh, come now. Who are you fooling? From what I hear you have become quite capable and certainly qualified, in service to the Dark Brotherhood. Do you not find yourself the least bit curious that he chose to help foster a new prospect, over yourself, when you have certainly been groomed for the role?"

Syndel's eyes tracked his movement, "It is my father's decision. It is not my place to question it." She replied firmly.

"Then let me ask you this… you have no doubt in your mind that your father's judgment could not be… clouted, perhaps? After all, his new Silencer is a woman and she is rather… beautiful. I dare say, she even reminds me of your late mother. Sithis, rest her soul."

"What are you implying?"

Bellamont stopped in front of her, looking at her reserved eyes with a bemused smirk. "I, myself, am not the only one that shares this concern. I am only saying that your father's most recent actions and reclusiveness have raised some…. suspicions."

"Why are you telling me this?" She implied steadfastly.

"It was thought that you could shed some light on your father's strange conduct. Though, I have my doubts that even YOU know what truly goes on with him. His motives are uncertain and his overall conduct in his affairs is quite… unbecoming of a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood, as of late." Bellamont gestured to her with open hands. "The Black Hand is concerned and I am here, merely asking that you consider the fact that Lucien Lachance, your father, is not in right mind."

"My father faithfully serves the Night Mother and Sithis, without question." She hissed, "As do I."

"Yes, your father's faithfulness to the Dark Brotherhood has been beyond reproach for many years now, however even the most devout can be deceived or manipulated. Consider this, have you not wondered why your father holds himself up in that aged Fort, never actively engaging with his fellow members, lest his fellow Black Hand members. He recruited and initiated many of the late members of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary into our unique… family and now they have been sacrificed to Sithis to purge an assumed traitor within the Brotherhood, yet the traitor still runs amuck."

"Are saying my father is the traitor?"

"I do not cast judgment on my fellow Speaker. I am only enlightening you to what others have concluded. It is thought that your father's new Silencer, is perhaps an assassin within assassins. Or even you perhaps?"

"I am no traitor!" she barked at him in stirring rage. "Nor, is my father! I serve the Dark Brotherhood, the Night Mother and Sithis, as my father and mother have before me!" She seethed as she gritted teeth. "I will not allow you or anyone else to say otherwise."

Bellamont held up his hands in defense, "Calm yourself, Syndel. I only ask that you consider the possibilities. You cannot deny that you do not question these things yourself; although, much could be resolved if this new Silencer were to be… removed."

Syndel's eyes shifted to a gravely perplexed expression, "You are suggesting that I eliminate my father's Silencer? To do so would go against the five tenants."

"Which is the greater of the faults before you?" Bellamont posed as he rolled his wrist as if he was dealing out cards, "Would you kill a fellow member or allow the Brotherhood to be betrayed? You would be breaking a tenant to absolve the violation of another. Sithis will understand this… humble transgression." Bellamont extended his hand as he posed a question, "So, what say you?"

"I will not."

Bellamont cocked his head curiously, "A pity… it seems your loyalty to your father outweighs your faithfulness to the Dark Brotherhood." He sighed, "So be it. You have made your choice." He walked past her and turned back a few steps off. "I leave you with this word of warning, though; if your father is found to be the traitor…" he paused briefly as his form began to morph with the natural surroundings. "You shall share in his fate."

Syndel looked down in a mixed array of confusion as she fell to her knees, weighing his words carefully. She had been honest with herself when she said she had never questioned her father before and now she found herself wondering. He had warned her that others would use her to get to him, yet was it for good reason or for ill. Either way, she knew she had no choice, but to stay away; for whatever Bellamont meant or intended by all of this, it would not doubt hinder her father in some way. She quietly looked to the stars, closed her eyes, and silently prayed to the Night Mother for guidance.

XxXxXxX

_Imperial City: Elven Gardens: Luther Broad's Boarding House_

It was late afternoon the next day before he arrived within the Imperial city. After making contact with Baurus, Joren was forced to help dispatch the tailing shadow on Baurus. After learning of the information Baurus had gathered, he headed for the Arcane University. He passed through the gates and approached the rise of the smaller southeastern tower when a flash of violet and blue hued light illuminated before him. He shielded his eyes and dared to look as was shocked to see Mycroft and Nathiira standing before him, eyeing them inquisitively.

"Ah, Joren! There you are. I am surprised to find you here."

"Likewise. I did not expect to see you for another day."

"Ah, about that, it appears that, Lady Nathiira here has a few… rather interesting means of travel at her disposal."

"Apparently." Joren replied in amusement.

"If you are here, then it only means you discovered something." Nathiira commented vaguely.

"You are correct, milady." Joren handed over a book to her. "Apparently, this book is tied to a Daedric cult, known as the Mythic Dawn. They are the ones we are looking for. I was told that there was one amongst the Mage's guild, Tar-Meena, who be able to assist with this. I was going to get this going in your absence; however, since you are here, milady, I leave it to you."

"Of course." Nathiira nodded as they walked into the Tower of the University.

XxXxXxX

_Imperial City: Market District_

As evening settled, Mycroft exited the First Edition as Phintias closed up shop for the night. He looked to Joren, who casually posted up at the corner of the intersection, as Mycroft shook his head disappointingly.

"I take it things did not go well." Joren smirked.

"Some people, I tell you… Well, according to Mr. Phintias over there, he assured me that there is indeed a third and fourth edition. He currently holds a copy of the third edition for another, whereas, the fourth is all but impossible to find."

"Could you not convince him to part with it?"

"Well, he started off by saying his word was his bond. I tried to reason with the man, yet after much bantering, he offered to let it go for one hundred gold. ONE HUNDRED! Of all the underhanded, leveraging, highway robbery schemes, I tell you!"

"So you have the book, then?"

"Of course not!" Mycroft exclaimed, placing his hands adamantly on his hips as Joren eyed him curiously."What did you expect, Joren? What little profit I have managed to loo… er… pilf… I mean…" Mycroft stammered as an Imperial Watch passed by. "Collect! Yes, collected… barely scratches the surface. And at last I checked, your pockets are not that deep either, are they?"

Joren snorted as he eyed the store. "We need that book. Perhaps the one he is holding it for might be more open to part with it."

"Oh, please Joren, do not be so daft. I fully intend to get the book from Phintias. You see I-"

Joren threw up his hand, stopping him short. "I do not want to know about it. I am certain I already know where you plan to go with this." Joren turned and began to walk away.

"And why not?" Mycroft posed the question to him intently.

Joren looked over his shoulder briefly, "Because… The less I know… the less I have to lie to the guards about." Mycroft raised and objecting finger, but quickly retracted it as he snorted to himself in humored agreement.

XxXxXxX

_Imperial City: Arcane University: Library_

It was early morning and sun began to pierce warmly through the narrow windows of the library. Nathiira stretched out her stiffened joints, having spent the entire evening scouring through the first two volumes of the Commentaries. As much as she knew what the Mythic Dawn had so ill conceived, she was quite amazed and fascinated by the words of Mankar Camoran. It had, so far, enlightened her to new theories on magic as she was finding herself anxiously awaiting the remaining tomes to see what new discoveries there were to be had through his words.

She heard the door open as Mycroft entered the room with a sly grin as he approached her extending ht leather bound book. "One copy of Mankar Camoran's Commentaries of the Mysterium Xarxes, book three; for your perusal, milady."

"Thank you." Nathiira replied as she laid the tome out before her and began reading the text intently."Amazing…" she said softly to herself.

Mycroft skirted around behind her as he leaned on her seat back and half-heartedly skimmed the text over her shoulder, gently puling her back and over her opposing shoulder to see more clearly as she flipped through the text. "What is, milady?"

"These thoughts of Mankar Camoran. They are quite in depth and remarkable. The man has a brilliant mind in the realms of the arcane and the Daedric mythos. His words just draw you in." she noted semi-enthralled.

Mycroft leaned back and gently began to massage her shoulders in the intent of distracting her train of thought as she responded by closing her eyes, letting out slight moan of pleasure. "Let us not forget, milady, This Camoran founded this Mythic Dawn group and they are currently the enemy; our foe to be more precise."

"You are right… I guess I made it sound like as if I am some sort of adoring fan." She sighed, "I admire the wisdom he puts forth. However, I guess I need a break."

"Quite… you are certainly tense. You need to get some rest and look at this with fresh eyes. I n the meantime, I need to meet with a man who might shed light on some things regarding this missing fourth book." Nathiira nodded as Mycroft walked herto the dormitory and

XxXxXxX

_Imperial City: Elven Gardens: Luther Broad's Boarding House_

It was nearly noon as Baurus and Joren sat at the bar, nursing their drinks casually as many gathered within the boarding house for a quick lunch.

"So, do you think he can pull it off? Baurus roughly questioned.

Joren shrugged after taking a deep drink, "If I were a beating man, my money would be on him. I doubt he will fail outright."

The door to the boarding house opened as Mycroft entered cheerfully as he made his way towards them. "Well, there you are. The third book is being reviewed and as an added bonus…" Mycroft withdrew a small note from his pocket as he handed it over to Baurus. "I have an open invitation to meet with a representative of the Mythic Dawn."

Joren raised an intrigued eyebrow, "How did you manage that?"

"Well, needless to say, I spoke with this amateur scholar named Gwinas; a relatively haughty and disciplined fellow to be sure, however he was avidly displeased that Phintias had… misplaced his order and I happen to strike up a conversation with him. After a bit of debate, it appears that Gwinas caught the attention of said cultists and they offered to meet with him to discuss his future. I somewhat enlightened him to the goings-on of the cult, as of late, and he was more than inclined to have no part in being involved with them and so he offered to help by giving me his invite."

"It seems you finally put that silver tongue to good use." Joren jeered as Mycroft gave a mock bow.

Baurus handed back the note to Joren, "It would seem they are waiting for him. If we don't move on this we may lose our chance. By the description, I know where they are meeting."

"Shall we?" Mycroft grinned and he motioned towards the door in a gracious manner.

XxXxXxX

Imperial City: Sunken Sewers

Baurus, Joren, and Mycroft lurked through the maze of tunnels and spillways underneath the city. Rats, mud crabs, and few goblins harassed them along the way for disturbing the squatting hovels within as they made their path. As they came upon a rusted steel door and a set of stairs, Baurus turned to them with a serious and firm look upon his face. "Beyond this door is where they are meeting." Baurus noted in a low tone. "I should be the one to meet with them. There is a rise just above the area where you can cover me from the shadows."

"They said to come alone, which only means they are not."

Mycroft looked to Joren and scanned his armored body with amused reservation, "Well, I guess I shall be the one to provide support, should things go afoul." Mycroft snapped quick glance of reassurance towards Baurus, "Not to say you will foul it up, good sir. It is simply in the fact that, our walking wall of metal here is going to stick out like sore thumb." Mycroft grinned at Joren, "No offense."

"Not arguing. I can remain here as reserve anchor."

"Okay…" Baurus replied in concurrent, "Let's go."

Baurus entered the room, taking seat at the lone table and chair that sat near a gated partition with a single candle barely piercing the darkness of the room. Mycroft slinked up to the rise where a bridge crossed over the area, giving him full view of the scene. He quietly leaned against the wall; the veiled shadows enveloping him like a blanket. He peered down as the lower gate creaked open and a high elf dressed in the red and black colors of the cult entered and began a rather cold introduction s he began his recruitment speech.

Mycroft watched the pair of dark forms gather behind the gate across the bridge as he shifted further into the archway. The recruiter called for his brothers to join him as they lit torches and proceeded towards Mycroft direction. Sweat began to rise on his brow as he held his breath as the two new arrivals peered into the short passageway he was occupying and continued down the stairs to their associate.

Cautiously he slid down the wall to see the exchange as the spokesman became alerted as he recognized Baurus. With that the three mystics cast the bound arms and armors upon themselves Baurus rolled out of his chair and readied to defend himself. Mycroft drew his untested Daedric blade and leapt down upon the third cultist, his blade plunging through his back as he used his target to break his fall. His partner turned quickly at Mycroft with his mace connected with his head. Mycroft was knocked back, off balance, as he shuffled to his feet while the rusted door slammed open.

Joren charged inward sending a sweeping bash to the torso of the second robed form. The hammered cultist was knocked off his feet and laid prone as Mycroft stumbled over and impaled his blade upon the stricken cultist as his he let out a blood curdling scream and his armor faded.

The recruiter and Baurus squared off as they exchanged blows between their blades. Baurus held back as Joren flanked the elf and he gauged the situation. "You fools! You cannot stop the Lord of Destruction!" He exclaimed, "You will be crushed under the might of Mehrunes Dagon!" Joren eyed Baurus to which he, in turn, nodded and the two struck the High Elf down with a simultaneous attack.

Baurus sheathed his blade and scoured the body of the recruiter and found the fourth book inside his robe. Joren slung his hammer as he reached down, grabbing Mycroft, bringing him to his feet as he dizzily checked his blooded blade. "I think I like this weapon…" he groggily chimed as Joren wrapped Mycroft's arm over his shoulder to help carry him in his dazed state.

Baurus stepped over the dead body and tucked the book inside Mycroft cuirass and looked to Joren. "I'll take care of things down here. Hopefully, that book will give us more details as to where the rest of these Daedra worshippers are at."

Joren nodded, "I will get this book to our mage and see if she cannot decipher something from it."

"Good. Once I'm finished here I'll make my way to Cloud Ruler Temple. I am have failed to protect the previous Emperor but I am not about to fail our new lord." Joren nodded once more as he dragged the barely coherent rogue through back though the sewers.


	11. Chapter 11

_Imperial City: Green Emperor Way_

Joren, Mycroft and Nathiira stood amongst the gravestones gazing at the tomb of the Late Prince Camarril as the sun danced overhead, the Great Tower looming over them vigilantly. Mycroft scratched the back of his head idly, "You are certain of this, milady," he questioned curiously.

"According to the Commentaries, it is said when the sun touches the tower in the midday sun it should light the path," Nathiira replied confidently, "Just be patient."

"As you wish, milady."

"Look," Joren piped up flatly as the door in front of them began to glow with a blood red tinge as the trio approached the door. "It appears that it lies nearly due east of here."

Nathiira studied the details intently. "Yes and this outline… Do you suppose it is the lake south of Cheydinhal?"

Joren eyes darted between the glyph and his map, "Possibly."

"There are a number of caverns cropped up around that area. Most likely their shrine is housed in one of them." Mycroft added casually.

"We need to regroup with Syndel. She might know the area better," Joren replied as he rolled up the map, "she should be headed back to the Temple by now."

XxXxXxX

_Cloud Ruler Temple:_

It was late into the night as Syndel painfully made her way up the winding path to the Temple, her wounds stinging and raking pain throughout her body with every step. She heard the distant clang of plate mail come up from behind her as she turned to see a pair of torches dimly lighting the way behind her, as she felt weak, fainted, and collapsed on the ground.

XxXxXxX

Syndel opened her eyes slowly to see a blush red, robed form knelt down beside her. She rolled slightly; her body responding sluggishly as she felt a hand catch her shoulder and pull her back onto the bedding. "It is alright, Syndel," Nathiira whispered reassuringly as she pulled back her hood, "I apologize; I did not mean to startle you." Syndel's eyes darted around the room as she realized they were alone, inside the Blades barracks. Her body ached as she attempted to push herself up onto her elbows as Nathiira pressed her hand gently on her shoulder. "Relax, Syndel, relax… your body is still mending."

Nathiira extended her free hand just above Syndel's abdomen as an orb of pure white light fused in her palm followed by the charge expelling onto Syndel as she felt the cooling rush of the healing flow through her as she lay back down. Nathiira smiled warmly, "There. It will take a minute or two to fully take effect; however you muscles will no doubt be stiff and sore for a day or two."

Syndel nodded curtly, "I am in your debt," she answered in a tired tone.

"Think nothing of it," Nathiira waved off her words as she shifted her stance to a sitting position beside her, "we are working together, after all."

Syndel looked over and reached for her pack as she took out a pair of Sigil stones and handed them to Nathiira. "As I closed the first that was spotted, another formed shortly after off in the distance, and then another after that," she said grimly, "The gates are opening sporadically."

"I assumed as much. "Nathiira sighed heavily as she stowed the stones away, "From little we have learned, I also fear that despite our best efforts, even if we close one, it will no doubt reopen in time."

Syndel grumbled slightly as pulled up the blanket slightly and examined her body, "Where is my armor?" she said looking to Nathiira with reservation.

"Joren is repairing it as we speak; however, I am curious…" Nathiira sighed nervously.

"Of what?" Syndel pried, her eyes widening as Nathiira held up the Cruelty's Heart Amulet.

"This pendent," Nathiira replied hesitantly, "it is unlike anything I have ever seen before, yet on the back, it bears the mark of the Night Mother, one of the Daedric deities."

"What of it?" Syndel replied coolly.

"You are one of them… I mean, the Dark Brotherhood, are you not?" Nathiira posed nervously.

"If I am?" Syndel raised a questioning eyebrow,

"You need not worry," Nathiira responded composedly, "I will not speak of it to anyone," Nathiira placed the amulet in her hand, "Joren also knows, does he not?"

"Yes. What of the rogue, Mycroft?"

"He has his… suspicions," Nathiira half heartedly chuckled to herself, "however he is more intrigued about how someone as young as you is so skilled. He knows there is more to you than meets the eye, yet I would not worry about him." Syndel's eyes darted away in contemplation before they eased back to Nathiira. ""It would be best if you tell him yourself," Nathiira added.

A knocking came from the main door of the barracks to which Syndel sat up quickly through the aching of her abs, covering herself modestly with the blanket and Nathiira calmly got to her feet and beckoned the caller to enter. Joren stepped in with a stern look of reservation on his face, followed by Mycroft whose face was also discouraged. Joren knelt down and set Syndel's armor down gingerly at her feet, glancing at her with a nod of acknowledgement as if understanding what had she endured.

"The enemy grows stronger with each new gate."Syndel said in an even tone to him, "it was my choice." Joren nodded with a grunt as he stood up and crossed his arm across his chest deep in thought.

"Syndel has told me that more gates are intermittently opening across the land." Nathiira posed openly looking to Joren and Mycroft with uncertainty as Mycroft shook his head frowningly. "What is it?"

Mycroft sighed and stroked the back of his neck. "It appears," Mycroft begrudgingly groaned, "we have ourselves a Hydra."

"A Hydra?" Nathiira posed confused, "What do mean?"

"For every fire we put out, two more appear." Joren uttered dully.

"Well, we just have to add that to the list," Mycroft cynically remarked, "We have the location of the Shrine, where they are no doubt keeping the Amulet of Kings, yet it appears that these cultists are possibly keeping tabs on the goings-on here and for some reason Bruma, as well."

"We are fighting a battle on two fronts. One being the encroaching demons of Oblivion, the other the Mythic Dawn," Joren stated as stroked his forehead, "The gates are inevitable. That and we know not the strength the Mystic Dawn can bring to bear. From what we have seen, they number many and we are few." Joren pounded his fist in his hand irritably, "Our main priority is to get the Amulet back."

"What of the other Blades or the Imperial Legion?" Nathiira interjected, "Can they not aid in this."

"The Legion will be stretched as it is. There is little doubt these gates are not just cropping up here in the north. They are more than likely going to be able to keep the ones that pass through the gates, more or less, at bay." Joren replied.

"Not to mention, the few Blades that remain from the initial assassination are held up here to protect Martin." Mycroft added glumly.

"It appears they have planned this out well." Nathiira said in mildly defeated tone.

Syndel stood up abruptly and grabbed her armor as Joren glanced and turned around politely while Mycroft raised an amused eyebrow before Nathiira held her hand up, blocking his line of sight as she ushered him to turn as well, shaking her head disapprovingly at him. "I will pursue the spies." Syndel said matter of fact as she began strapping on her armor.

Joren tilted his head back slightly, "We cannot risk you getting overwhelmed."

"They will conduct themselves more discreetly and move more freely as individuals," Syndel replied rigidly.

"Strange as it may sound," Mycroft chimed as he looked to Joren, "I have to agree with her, though share Joren's concern. I do not like the thought of sending you out alone, again."

Nathiira looked to Joren and Mycroft nodding, as they turned back around to face Syndel who bound the final buckle on her armor. "She is fully healed and she is facing mortal threats, not the demon threats from a Daedric realm."

Joren shrugged as he unfurled his map and stepped beside Syndel, pointing to a vague outline along the east. "We know that they are held up somewhere along this area and have a Shrine built. If it is anything like the other Daedric idols, scattered throughout Cyrodiil, it would be massive. Any idea where they could hide such a thing?"

Syndel scanned the map intently as Mycroft and Nathiira looked on patiently as she pointed to the northeastern shore of Lake Arrius. "Cheydinhal rests on a high hill. There are few caves within the hillside except one at the base where the lake resides. The cave would extend into the bulk of the hill."

"That is good enough for me." Joren said approvingly as he rolled up the map and stepped towards the door, "Time to head out."

"Wait a moment!" Mycroft threw up his hand in disbelief, "we cannot just charge in there, banner flying, and just waltz right in as if we own the place. How typically Nord of you…" Mycroft scoffed mockingly as Joren turned back and pressed his fist to his hips as his brow furrowed slightly, "If this is their center of worship, there is no telling how many members are held up within. We need to be a bit more covert."

Joren eased up as he shook his head and snickered, "Okay… okay, you made your point," he replied as he looked to the others before turning his attentions back to Mycroft with his arms crossed pryingly, "Think this through; you may be able to sleaze your way in or sneak past, but Syndel is the only other one amongst us proficient enough to stealth her way in also. Nathiira and I are not so… adept," Joren shrugged, "No offense, milady."

"None taken;" Nathiira replied kindly, "He has a point, Mycroft. You may be able to get in, yet this is far from some simple sleight of hand antics. You will, no doubt, be open and exposed with little chance of getting out with the Amulet… if not alive."

"Still," Mycroft answered optimistically, "it can be done. It is far better plan than blatantly crashing the party."

Syndel reached inside her pack and handed two scrolls to Nathiira. "Then you will need these."

Nathiira unrolled the parchment as she looked to her in modest surprise, "Scrolls of Invisibility… How long will they last?"

"One hour."

Mycroft smiled, "Well! That certainly changes things in our favor."

"Agreed," Joren nodded as he looked to Syndel, "It was said that one of the spies was seen around the Rune Stone, south of here, around dusk. See what you can find out." Syndel nodded as she gathered her things and slipped past them, out the door nearly silently. Joren motioned the other two to follow as Mycroft and Nathiira fell in a few steps behind him.

Mycroft leaned in towards Nathiira with a sly grin, "So, was I right?" Mycroft whispered to her anxiously, "Is she one of them?"

Nathiira shrugged, "I know not. I did not have the opportunity to ask." She softly whispered in reply as Mycroft groaned, disappointed.

XxXxXxX

Syndel waited silently and patiently for her mark, concealing herself within the thick underbrush outside the stone ring surrounding the cryptic formation's center piece. The archaic runes softly glowed with a lime green hue in the light of the setting sun. The sound of shifting dirt and rock alerted her as she saw a female Breton make her way up the rise towards the Rune Stone. The Breton approached cautiously as she scanned the immediate area before she stepped across the ringed perimeter and gazed up at the Temple, taking note of the sentries' movements.

Syndel methodically drew her blade as she crept up on the unsuspecting onlooker. She stealthed her way behind the Breton as she rose up like a striking snake, wrapping her arm around the woman's throat and pressing the tip of her blade into her lower back.

"God's blood!" the Breton yelped and she grabbed at Syndel's arm, "Please! I have no-"

"SILENCE!" Syndel snarled as she tightened her hold and nudged the blade deeper into her back as it pierced the cloth of the Breton's shirt. The Breton winced at the pain, easing her grasp on Syndel's arm slightly. "Who are you?" Syndel pitilessly beckoned.

"My name… is Jearl…" she hesitantly replied, "I am no one of consequence… I just live… over there… in Bruma? Please… Don't kill me."

Syndel turned the blade slightly as it nicked Jearl's skin to which she stifled a meek cry of pain, "Just answer me," she hissed furiously, "and I just may let you live. What are you doing here?"

"I… I am studying… studying the Heaven Stones and Doom Stones."

"LIAR! You are watching the Blades… WHY!"

"NO! I was not spying, I swear! Cloud Ruler Temple means nothing to me."

"YOU FOOL!" Syndel scoffed, "How else would you know what it is called, unless you were watching… Now, you must die!" Syndel drew back for a thrust as Jearl pushed at Syndel's arm, breaking free from her grasp as Jearl spun away to face off with her.

"HA! You foolish, little girl!" Jearl jeered scornfully, "You should have killed me when you had the chance!" Jearl threw up her hand as the Mythic Dawn's signature arcane armor was conjured and appeared around her as she wielded a Daedric War Axe. She looked back to where Syndel had been standing to see that she had vanished. Jearl jerked herself back quickly as she braced herself against the Rune Stone to cover her flank. "That's right, run away!" Jearl sneered insultingly.

Syndel darted for the trees as she took cover behind the largest of them while she sheathed her blade and readied her bow. She knocked an arrow as the invisibility spell was dissipated by the exchange and took in a short, deep, cleansing breath, dropping low as she spun around the tree, took aim at the searching Dagon zealot, and let her shot fly. The arrow sailed through the air with an eerie banshee-like screech as the zealot saw the Daedric missile coming at her, all too late. It breached the mystical armor and buried itself directly in the center of Jearl's chest, knocking her into a daze as she felt herself being drained as her body collided against the heavy, pale rock, slumping prone on the ground.

Syndel raced towards her, slinging her bow, switching to her Glass Long Sword as she pounced upon Jearl's chest like a mountain lion after its prey, her legs pinning Jearl's arms to the ground. Jearl thrashed in a futile attempt to break free before stopping short and glaring at Syndel with burning eyes through her ornate helm as Syndel pressed her blade to Jearl's neck,. "I do not fear death, little girl!" Jearl spat through gritted teeth.

Syndel smirked, "Then, Sithis shall have you," she replied coldly and stoically as she sliced through Jearl's throat.

XxXxXxX

Mycroft strolled through the dimly lit cavern in his green silk finery as the guard at the door approached. "Dawn… is… breaking." The male Imperial watchman said methodically.

"Greet the new day!" Mycroft grinned charmingly.

"Then I welcome you, dear brother." The watchman nodded, "Welcome to the path of the Mythic Dawn. Enter, and speak with Harrow." The watchman turned and unlocked the door, opening it as he returned to his post. Mycroft stepped through and descended the naturally forming steps as a Dark Elf rounded the corner ahead of him.

"Ah, our newest initiate. I welcome you brother, I am Harrow, Warden of the Shrine of our Lord, Mehrunes Dagon." He said attentively.

"Greetings unto you as well… brother."

Harrow handed a folded red and black trimmed robe, "Now, let's prepare you for your initiation. Here are your new garments and I will need all of you to hand over possessions."

"My possessions?" Mycroft nervously stammered, "Why?"

"It is not you place to ask questions." Harrow posed adamantly, "You will do as you're told. Now… your possessions…" he barked as he held out his hands.

Mycroft sighed uneasily as he shed his finery and handed over his blade and skeleton key. _I guess it was not such a bad idea to hand over the more important stuff to Joren prior to this, after all._ He thought to himself as he donned the robe.

Harrow eyed Mycroft displeased and with reservation, "Come, the master awaits." Mycroft raised questioning eyebrow as Harrow continued down the cave as he fell in line behind him. The two passed through another door that opened into a vast underground chamber as the sounds of a man addressing a crowd echoed lightly in the stillness of the space. Harrow whispered to him to remain quiet 'for the master was speaking' as they respectfully skirted the rocky rise around the perimeter and moved deeper into the hollow.

Mycroft looked to the center where nearly a dozen followers were gathered at the base of a raised dais with a trio of altars that formed the base of the shrine where an ominous rendering of the Lord of Destruction stood menacingly overlooking them all. A High Elf male, who Mycroft could only assume to be the infamous, Mankar Camoran, was dressed in more ornate robes; apparently preaching to his flock with a female High Elf was standing off to his right with mage's staff slung on her back, whom vaguely resembled him like a daughter. Mycroft watched in begrudgingly silence as the so-called Master held up the Amulet of Kings announcing that he intended to use it to bring their Lord to this world. He knew now it would be all that more difficult to reacquire it.

Harrow took a place amongst the other followers as they affirmed their faith in his words be following his every statement with "Praise Be!" Mycroft tried to gain a better position to steal the Amulet, if he could, as he skirted along the edge of the small crowd, holding a neutral composure as best he could in the awkwardness of the situation. He was forced to abandon his attempt on getting to the higher ground as he noticed Harrow casually keeping tabs on his place within them. He looked up suddenly as the speaker announced that he was going to join Dagon and return with him as he saw a golden portal open in the middle of the dais as he passed through effortlessly. "Damn!" he muttered under his breath in anger at the missed opportunity as the room fell silent.

Harrow stepped forward amongst the crowd and looked to the female High Elf that remained, "Lady Ruma! We have amongst us a new initiate." Harrow announced energetically as he gestured to Mycroft who felt a cold chill run up his spine at Harrow's words.

"Come forward, dear brother. " Ruma said ethereally, looking towards Mycroft as he made his way up the steps regretfully. Mycroft scanned the scene before him, seeing the thick tome lying on the center altar with a number of Daedric runes inscribed upon it as Ruma took a dagger from the altar and approached him. Mycroft watched as from the other side of the dais, two cultists were carrying an Argonian who had been beaten, bound, and stripped as they set him on a stone slab before the idol.

The two cultists unobtrusively stepped away and back down to the lower level as Mycroft's attention was drawn to Ruma as her dark and heartless eyes gazed upon him intently. "In order to become one with the great Mehrunes Dagon, the red liquid must be given unto him. Give unto Him this sacrifice, so you may bond with him." She instructed through a stoic candor.

Mycroft gritted his teeth as Ruma held out the ornate dagger in front of him. Mycroft snorted a heavy breath as he took the dagger and approached the Argonian. The Argonian laid on his side looking at Mycroft desperately through an un-swollen eye as he heaved a burdened breath, "Please… don't… do this…" he pleaded.

Mycroft sighed as he covered the Argonian's eye as the Argonian softly whispered a prayer to Akatosh, "Sorry, my friend…" Mycroft grimly replied as he leaned in on the Argonian and ran the blade along the centerline of his torso, allowing the edge to merely scrape upon his scales, drawing no blood, and still giving enough force to cut through ropes binding his wrists, "but you will have to make a run for it…" he whispered into his reptilian ear. The room fell silent as the Argonian whispered his thanks to Mycroft.

The Argonian pushed himself off and away from the sacrificial slab as he made break for freedom while Mycroft tossed the blade up in the air, snatching the blade's edge between his fingers, spun around abruptly, and hurled the dagger with all his strength as it flipped end over end towards Ruma.

XxXxXxX

Joren and Nathiira looked on as the dagger sailed through the air and thrust its way into Ruma's stomach as she momentarily stumbled to one knee. Nathiira reached out and brushed her hand against Joren's body since he had removed his armor to avoid audible detection, causing their Invisibility spells to drop as she cast a Greater Protect Other spell upon him to compensate.

"COVER THEM!" Joren yelled as he charged the group of cultist who were racing towards the dais as Nathiira readied her Lightning staff and moved toward Mycroft as he shielded the Argonian. Joren leaped into the air from the elevation and gripped his hammer firmly with both hands as he landed a blow from overhead on to the spine of one of the mystics and following through with a swing to either side, using the momentum of the rush to bat away the small gaggle of assailants.

Mycroft darted from left to right through volley of lightning spells coming from the downed Ruma as he bolted towards the center altar and seized the rather mysterious tome. He sprinted for the right side of the dais to make his escape. Mycroft bound off the edge as he felt the brunt of a spell nail him directly in the back as he suddenly sensed himself become encumbered by an artificial weight that sent him crashing to the ground. He tried with all his might to pick himself up, but had not the strength to overcome the burden.

Nathiira sprinted toward Mycroft on the upper rock outcropping along the right side as four cultists rushed towards her prone stricken ally. She cast a Frost Blast at the group which encompassed their immediate area in bitter cold. Two of the mystics turned and cast a pair of Fireball spell towards her. Nathiira managed to sidestep one as the other caught her point blank. Her natural immunity afforded her a fair amount of resistance but the searing pain lingered as the spell bounced off of her through her Ring of Spell Reflection as half of the jolt returned to the sender and was released upon the pair of casters, dispatching them.

Blow for blow, Joren mowed his way through the mass of half a dozen followers as the Hammer kept him resilient as Harrow summoned his armor and began to exchange blows. "DIE, NON-BELIEVER!" Harrow screamed as he dispelled the protection spell upon Joren. Harrow reached back and swung at Joren with his war axe as Joren cross-blocked the strike as the two became locked in a hold.

"Send my regards to Dagon!" Joren spat as he pushed his weight forward, driving Harrow off balance as their weapons broke free and Joren brought his hammer low, in a controlled spin, swinging it upward in the turn as it caught the right side of Harrow's helm, snapping his head viciously around, breaking his neck as the armor faded and the Dark Elf slumped backward.

The two remaining cultist on the right pressed on as they summoned Daedric armor and blades. They descended upon Mycroft for the kill. "NO!" Nathiira shrilled as she dropped down, draping over Mycroft and dispelled the Burden upon him as the bladed pair attacked with thrusts. Their assault thrashed into Nathiira's body as she yelped in excruciating pain as her body went limp and slid off of the now freed Mycroft. Mycroft looked on in horror at the fallen mage as his shock turned to rage.

"You… BASTARDS!!!" Mycroft screamed as he dodged incoming slashes, rolling between them as he grabbed Nathiira's staff. The two attackers turned inward as Mycroft drove the pointed end of staff through the eye slit of one his attacker's helms as the body shuttered, the armor faded, and the dead man fell to the ground in a heap as his body began to twitch wickedly. The other foe pulled back his blade and lanced Mycroft through the side as he shrieked in anguish as he was forced to his knees being pressed upon. Mycroft squinted as he saw a dagger strapped on the convulsing dead body's belt as his attacker pulled out his blade. Mycroft swiftly clutched the handle, twisted his body around in a fluid-like motion and lunged up at his foe, the blade driven up through the jaw into his brain as he fell with the body as it thudded hard against the ground.

Joren strode up onto the dais, blood seeping from numerous gashes across his arms and torso, his Hammer resting casually on his shoulder as he walked up on the wheezing Ruma Camoran who was leaned against the altar, soaked in blood from the waist down. "I…" Ruma coughed as she spat blood, "do not… fear death…"

"Good," Joren replied flatly as he clocked her upside her head with his hammer as she folded over on her side, "neither do I." Joren looked about as the room fell quiet as he knew there was more present, deeper within the cave. "Nathiira!" he called out hoping for a relative response.

"Over here!" Mycroft yelped as Joren made his way hurriedly over to the right side and hopped down as he saw Mycroft frantically tearing strips away from his robe, tying them around Nathiira's wounds as she laid there unconscious. "She is hurt bad. We need to get out of here."

Joren eyed the deep gash along Mycroft side as he took a long strip and wrapped it around Mycroft's abdomen as he tied it tightly, causing Mycroft to grunt as he attempted to suck in the pain. "Can you make it?" Joren asked steadily.

"Yes..." Mycroft grunted through the pain as he picked up Nathiira's limp body in his arms, "I have no choice."

Voices echoed through the room as torch light started to filter in as Joren took note and stared into Mycroft's eyes steadfastly, "Get to the Chapel in the city. I'll cover your exit."

"But, you cannot take-"

"Shut up and GO!" Joren belted as he shoved Mycroft forward and headed towards the fray as Mycroft did not look back and carried Nathiira off, making his exit from the cave with all his might.


	12. Chapter 12

_Bruma:_

The night sky was blurred by the thick gray clouds that swarmed overheard as a stinging cold rain began to fall upon the city. Syndel leaned against the western outer wall between the two, half sunken, Nordic houses as the roving patrolman passed by on his rounds. Syndel checked her surrounding as the haunting sensation of unseen eyes watching her lingered despite seeing no one as she slid against the outer surface, peering in through the less than obscured window to see the house currently unoccupied, though a fire burned heartily with a pot idling cooking over the flames.

She crept up onto the small porch as she took the key she swiped from Jearl's body, trying the lock. The tumblers turned smoothly as she realized she had found Jearl's residence as she gained access and swiftly made her way in like a ghost as she closed the door without a sound. She looked about the one bedroom house as it was bland and furnishings rather sparse. Syndel rifled through the drawers finding nothing of interest. She lifted the top of the iron cooking pot to see the broth had barely begun to bubble which that there was only meant that it had not been sitting long. There was another present here during the time she had dispatched Jearl.

Syndel scanned the room once more as the sense of being watched crept upon her once more, unable to shake it, as she saw a rolled over corner of a rug under the dining table. She threw back the edge to reveal a trap door. She checked the second key she had obtained as it unlocked, revealing a ladder to a basement. Syndel laid the corner of the rug over the open door to cover her tracks as she climbed down the ladder, shutting the trap door behind her, locking it back as if undisturbed.

A lone, lit candle sat idly half burned on a table down the small antechamber as she gradually made her way inward to see a second bed, a couple of storage cabinets, and another full door. The sound of a key being fumbled in a lock, just ahead, alerted her as she drew back deeper in the shadows as the door was opened briskly as a Dark Elf in a burgundy dress feverishly made her way in as she rummaged through the cabinet near the bed, grabbing what she could into small bag.

The Dark Elf turned and headed for the door stopping short as she checked her things. Syndel rushed at the Elf as she became startled at the sound of a blade clearing a sheath as Syndel thrust her blade into her, just below the rib cage. The Dark Elf screamed as she was pushed into the open door and impaled into the wood, up to the hilt as she clutched the blade frantically, trying to keep herself upright as Syndel stepped back and away.

"How many more spies are here?" Syndel asked coldly.

"TO OBLIVION WITH YOU!" the Dark Elf seethed.

"What is your purpose here?" Syndel probed unflinchingly as she saw the Elf's eyes dart momentarily to a missive on the table. Syndel reached over as the Elf attempted to kick at her, falling short as she snarled in angst as the blade crept up her body slightly. Syndel skimmed the letter and looked to the speared Elf uncaringly, "You are Saveri Faram?"

The dark Elf spat on Syndel, "You know nothing! Maim me, torture me, do what you will… I will I tell you nothing!"

Syndel looked the note, paying Saveri no mind, "Then you are of no use to me," she remarked grimly as she cast a Fire Blast at Saveri as her body was engulfed in flame and wilted. Syndel folded up the note and braced her foot against the door, pulling her blade from the singed wood as the Saveri's body slumped gracelessly onto the stone floor. She collected the few items on the dead Elf's body and headed out the narrow escape tunnel in calm silence.

XxXxXxX

_Cheydinhal: Chapel of Arkay:_

Mycroft waited in the stairwell impatiently as he leaned against the wall in a set of sack cloth clothing on loan from the chapel with his arms folded tightly around him. The door opened as the aged and graying female Ork chapel healer slipped out of the room quietly. Mycroft pushed himself away from the wall as the Ork closed the door delicately.

"How is she?... Is she alright?..." Mycroft inquired anxiously, "How badly is she hurt?... Will she live?..."

"Please, please, good sir… calm yourself," the Ork said serenely and sighed, "Her wounds were very deep and she has lost a lot of blood. All that I can say is that I have treated her wounds and done all that I can for her, at the moment. It is now in hands of the Nine Divines."

"Well, the Nines will not have her!" Mycroft exclaimed as she suddenly toned down his frustration, realizing where he was, "Not yet, anyways."

The Ork raised her hands up in defense. "She is very weak and you being upset will not help change the matter. As I said, she is weak, but I can sense a strong determination and spirit about her. She will need some rest, however…" the Ork sighed as she reached for the door handle, "are you, Mycroft?"

"Yes… why?"

"As I was seeing to her wounds, she was calling out for you. Though it is against my better judgment, I will permit you to see her." The Ork open the door as Mycroft saw Nathiira laying on the oversized bed, "Perhaps your mere presence will help bolster her will."

Mycroft nodded to her as they entered the room. Mycroft walked up on her slowly as she stirred slightly, her eyes weakly opening as she smiled faintly. "Milady…" Mycroft sighed as she knelt down alongside her.

"I… I am… sorry… My… croft…" Nathiira softly whimpered.

"Milady…" Mycroft said sympathetically, "there is no need for apologies. You will be fine." Mycroft looked down as he felt her fingers crawl vaguely onto his as he took her hand gently as he bowed his head, "Why did you throw yourself at them? Why did you nearly sacrifice yourself… for me?"

"I… could not… let them… kill you… defenseless… and I…" Nathiira choked down her thought as she trailed off.

"And I… what?" Mycroft questioned concerned as he leaned in closer, "Milady?"

Nathiira sighed heavily, "I… did it… because… I think… I may be… falling… for-" she inadvertently paused as her eyes rolled back slightly and her body relaxed.

"Milady?" Mycroft beckoned as he looked to the healer who skirted around the other side and checked pulse on her neck.

"She is fine. She just passed out. She needs to rest."

"Damn…" Mycroft muttered softly in a grunt as he kissed the top of her hand and laid it gently on her chest and rose to his feet looking over her peaceful pose, "I never get all the details."

XxXxXxX

Joren open the massive doors of the Chapel as he stepped into the vestibule and unceremoniously dropped his laden pack on the stone floor as the sound of metal and glass clanged through hushed ambience of the church. The roaming priests and acolytes turned in surprise at the disruption as Joren's mangled armor clanged together as he limped his way down the aisle between the pews and approached the altar of Arkay, respectfully dropping to one knee and placed his hand on the altar, bowing his head reverently.

"Praise be to Arkay," Joren softly whispered, "for in the Nine Divines, we trust. I humbly seek thine forgiveness for the ill of my transgressions and beg for your mercy upon the souls that I have slain who have violated the will of the Nines. It is by your will that I live; by your will that I die. Praise be unto the Nine."

The altar glimmered as a surge of white light formed at the center and burst upon Joren with a radiant arc. Joren felt the warm resonance of the healing blessing ripple through him like a cool mountain stream as his wounds faded and his body was restored. He pushed himself up from the altar with a weary groan as the Nord priest came up to him.

"I see that Arkay favors you this day, my kinsman." He warmly greeted him.

"It would seem," Joren grimly replied as turned to the priest, "Sorry, reverend, I did not mean to offend."

"I understand, my friend; you look exhausted. Come, rest yourself." The priest grinned sympathetically as he motioned to a pew.

"Thank you, reverend, but I am looking for two elves that may have ventured here. One carrying in the other."

"Ah, yes. Friends of yours, I take it?"

"You could say that."

"Well, they arrived several hours ago. The young woman is being attended to and is resting, comfortably. The gentleman left here a short while ago. He didn't look to be in the best of moods." The priest said as he let out a modest chuckle, "My guess, he did what any man would do in his situation…"

"Drink heavily…. Many thanks, reverend."

XxXxXxX

_Cheydinhal: Cheydinhal Bridge Inn:_

Joren walked into the Inn see several patrons mingling around the dining hall as Mycroft sat in a corner table, alone, staring into his glass broodingly. He walked up to the bar eyeing Mycroft as he looked to the Ork Innkeeper. "How long has been there and how far is he in?"

"Three hours and two bottles, probably about to finish off his third." The Ork smirked.

Joren counted out a hundred coins. "Here… That should cover a room and his tab for the rest of the night. Keep the rest." The innkeeper nodded as she collected the coins while Joren turned and headed towards Mycroft.

"Ah, Joren…. there you is… I mean, are…" he slurred moderately inebriated, "Come, you must have a drink with me. It is good to see that you are still with us." Mycroft toasted his glass to him, wavering slightly in his seat.

"Likewise…" Joren smirked as he dropped a loaded satchel next to Mycroft's chair, "I believe these are yours." He said as he took a seat across from and pour himself a drink as Mycroft hap-hazardly rummaged through the sack.

"Ah, my affects… Thank you most kindly… I was surprised when that man asked me for them."

Joren chuckled as he took a long sip, "Do you think you are perhaps drinking a little too… heavily?"

"After what I have just been through lately…" Mycroft wavered his finger at Joren, "I would think I deserve to."

Joren snorted as he raised his glass slightly, "You have earned it."

"What?" Mycroft eyes perked up in a dazed state, "was that a vague attempt at a compliment I just heard?"

"Do not push it." Joren scoffed amused.

Mycroft waved hi m off adamantly, "It does not matter… I need not your approval…"

Joren leaned in on the table towards Mycroft as he cocked his head curiously at him, "A man only drinks this recklessly out of sorrow or guilt. So, tell me… which is it?"

Mycroft set down his glass as he leaned in on his elbows, running his fingers through his hair, sighing with a heavy heart. "I think… a little of both… actually. I failed, Joren… and in my failure, Nathiira nearly died in the process."

"It was a gamble. You did not fail."

Mycroft lightly pounded his fist on the table, "Perhaps, but by the Nines! She practically gave up her own life to save me…. ME!" He exclaimed as he pounded his palms to his chest, "No one… no one has ever done nor considered doing that sort of thing for me… ever!"

Joren took a long drink before staring directly at the discouraged Mycroft, "Look, from where I stood, you had no chance of getting that Amulet. Besides, you did not know there would be so many obstacles or events. When there was no alternative, you were forced to improvise. You did what you had to do, as did Nathiira." Mycroft looked up at him, distantly, as Joren continued, "She did what she thought was right. You probably inspired her. She knew the risk and was willing to face them, just as you have shown me, as of late." Joren shook his head in disbelief at his own words, "So, you did not get the Amulet back. You did, however, get that book Camoran was using, saved a man from being killed, and, saved Nathiira's life after saving yours, apparently. You far from failed, my friend."

Mycroft nodded subtly as he and Joren finished off their glasses as Mycroft cocked his head slightly with a mischievous smirk as he slowly looked up to Joren. "You know, Joren… that is two compliments in one setting. Something I never thought I would hear you say to me. That… and you called me…. your friend."

Joren scoffed humorously as he leaned back in his chair, "I would not let it go to your head. I guess you could say, you have grown on me…" he said through a sly smirk as he stood up turned to exit, "Like a fungus." He chuckled, parting from the table as Mycroft snorted softly and shook his head in disbelief.

XxXxXxX

It had been nearly two days as Syndel ran along the main road headed for Cheydinhal as the cool night air had settled in on the land. She stopped briefly in the cluster of large boulders, just short of the city, to change out of her armor into her more casual appearance. The breeze picked up slightly as Syndel knelt down, securing the laces on her shoe, as the sound of a flapping piece of loose cloth caught her attention. She slowly reached for her bow as she rolled forward and sprung back up in the opposite direction with her bow at the ready, the other hand grasping at an arrow in her quiver.

Syndel saw a relative tall and slender, dark cloaked form, leaning comfortably with their back against a nearby tree, arms and legs crossed casually. "My, my… aren't we a bit jumpy?" the female voice melodiously posed as Syndel recognized the voice the Speaker, Arquen. Syndel eased her hand slowly off her arrow, her bow still in front of her, as she cautiously rose to her feet. "Rendezvousing with your father, perhaps?" Arquen posed snidely.

"No, Speaker," Syndel replied flatly, "I have not seen nor heard from him in some time."

"I see... nor have any of us it seems. It is strange how in light of the all the turmoil that has been befallen the Brotherhood recently, that your father and his new Silencer are in the wind." Arquen implied curiously, "And what of the contract you were sent upon?"

"Completed."

"And of course, you father left follow-up instructions, did he not?"

"Yes." Syndel said begrudgingly.

"What were his instructions?"

"That I must separate myself and lay low. His concern was that I could be used against him."

Arquen raised a curious eyebrow to her words. "How strange… he wished for you to obscure yourself within the masses. Is that why you were in Bruma?" Syndel's eyes snapped up at Arquen, realizing that she must have been the presence she felt around Jearl's house. "It appeared you were executing a contract… one that I was not aware of."

"I was not in service of a contract."

"So, you were there at the request of your father, then?"

"No."

"Really?" Arquen piped up intrigued as she pushed herself off of the tree and leisurely advanced towards Syndel. "How interesting…" Syndel eyed Arquen baffled as the Speaker stood before her, judging her expression, "Perhaps, you can enlighten me as to why you dispatched that woman in basement."

Syndel weighed the statement carefully, "She was… a threat; a threat that needed to be eliminated."

"So, you are acting under your own accord now, hmm?" Arquen smirked.

Syndel eyed Arquen grimly, "Speaker… I swear, before the Night Mother herself, that I am not the traitor."

Arquen chuckled softly to herself, "That… I already know. Although, I am left wondering…. do you aide your father or pursue him?"

"Neither." Syndel calmly replied as she slowly slung her bow, "Speaker, why have I become part of the issue?"

"It is simple." Arquen softly implied as she leaned against the large rock, "Your father, Lucien, and his new Silencer have kept themselves, and their interests… mobile. I went to Bruma to speak with, J'Ghasta, my Silencer… only to find him slain. When I left his residence, I find you lurking about."

"You suspected me…"

"Not entirely. Every member of the Dark Brother has their… unique style in the art of killing. It did not fit yours. It did, however, point to your father's Silencer."

"She cannot be the traitor." Syndel added firmly, "She was not recruited till after the traitor was suspected."

"True, though does she not act only under your father's order? It only stands to reason that she is merely the puppet."

"No!" Syndel hissed through gritted teeth as she clinched her fist fiercely, "My father is not a traitor! I will not hear of it!"

"You may not wish to believe it, Syndel, but the facts are beyond reproach."

"NO!" Syndel yelled as she bolted from Arquen in to the wilds.

Arquen shook her head in saddened defeat as she slowly followed Syndel's path with her cold eyes and watched her disappear into the night as Bellamont slipped out of the shadows beside Arquen. "We cannot allow her to go unchecked." Bellamont said strictly.

"A daughter's love," Arquen sighed, "can be a useful tool… if properly utilized."

Bellamont cocked his head questioningly at Arquen, "Meaning?"

"Meaning, she will either resolve the matter for us or die alongside her father."

XxXxXxX

The mid-morning sun greeted Joren and Mycroft as they exited the March Rider and headed back to the Chapel as Mycroft counted the gold in his pouch admiringly. "You know," Mycroft beamed, "When all this is said and done, we should look into our own little merchant trade."

Joren glanced over to him and scoffed as they approached the small covered bridge, "Let me guess… I clean out the area, you collect the loot, I haul the heavy stuff, and you turn a profit. Thanks, but no thanks."

"You never know." Mycroft shrugged, "So far this little jaunt of ours has shown to be rather lucrative." Joren snatched the coin purse from Mycroft's hand and tucked away inside his breastplate quickly, "HEY!" Mycroft exclaimed, "What did you do that for?"

"Collecting my fee, hazard pay, and what you have owed to me." Joren replied bluntly, "After all, it was my spoils."

"Typical." Mycroft leered as he rolled his eyes and head back in disbelief.

Joren chuckled to himself before trailing off as he spotted Syndel leaning against the outside stone wall of the graveyard in silence, absently staring in contemplation at the abandoned house across from the Chapel. Mycroft turned and took notice of her as he grinned, "Ah, Miss Syndel… Fancy meeting you here; Miss us already?" he uttered candidly as she looked over and eyed him curiously.

Joren shook his head lightly as they came upon her, "Were there any problems?" Joren asked directly.

Syndel shook her head, "The threat has been eliminated." Syndel responded flatly as she handed over the unsealed note to Joren, "The watch captain and the Countess of Bruma have been informed, as have the Blades."

Joren examined the note with a grim sigh as he handed the note over to Mycroft who read it with an intense concern. "My, my… they certainly are not wasting any time, are they?"

"It would seem so." Joren commented dully, "It appears they are working in groups to cover several tasks at once."

Mycroft shook his head in disgust as he tucked the note away, "Well, I have to give them credit; they are certainly very organized."

Joren nodded, stroking his chin as he watched Syndel look back to the abandoned house before looking back to Mycroft. "We need to keep moving. These Mythic Dawn characters are definitely not remaining idle," he said frankly as he crossed arms over his chest, "Go check on Nathiira and see if she is able to head out." Mycroft nodded and headed for the Chapel as Joren leaned against the low wall next to Syndel. "Something on your mind?" Joren posed.

"Nothing of your concern." Syndel answered grimly keeping her focus on the house.

Joren shrugged, "This would be the time to cut your losses and take care of the problem, whatever it may be."

Syndel sighed heavily, "It is best, if I remain on this path, for the moment."

"Suit yourself."

The two remained outside the Chapel, waiting patiently in silence for several minutes before the door opened as Mycroft returned with Nathiira. Nathiira smiled softly as she nodded a greeting to Syndel who acknowledge curtly as she looked to Joren, "My apologies, Joren. I meant not to detain you."

"It is no trouble, milady." Joren replied as he and Syndel rose to their feet, "as long as you are back on your feet."

"Yes, well, the Chapel healer was opposed to the idea," Mycroft grinned slyly, "yet I assured her that I would see to it that the lady here did not push herself too hard."

"There is no immediate concern regarding that," Joren said assuredly as he looked to Mycroft with a smirk, "however, this is your show. Where do you suggest we head next?"

Mycroft raised a concerned eyebrow as he glanced over the others who were looking to him, waiting for his directions as he scratched the back of his head nervously, "I can only say that it is best if we take this tome I acquired back to Cloud Ruler Temple. His grace seems rather knowledgeable about Daedric things, perhaps he might be able to make use of it." Mycroft shrugged.

"I agree," Nathiira added, "Though I highly doubt that the leader of the Mythic Dawn is actually going to collect the Lord of Destruction. If Mankar opened a portal to supposedly escort Dagon to this world, we may be able to use that book to follow him and hopefully intercept him."

"Agreed." Joren nodded as Syndel eyed them curiously, "We will fill you in along the way, Syndel. Let's go."


End file.
